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THE 

Little Countess 

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF 

E. von DINCKLAGE, 

By S. E. Boggs. 

ILLUSTRATED BY WARREN B. DAVIS. 


T H E 

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lated from the German by 8. E. Boggs. 
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THE LITTLE 





a Nowel. 




E. VON DINCKLAGE 

u 


% 






TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN 

By S. E. BOGGS. 


TFJr^ ILLUSTRATIONS BY WARREN B. DAVIS. 



/ 


'SPINS' 

NEW YORK: ^ ^ 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS7 

PUBTJSHERS. 


THE LEDGER LIBRARY : I8RUED SEMI-MONTHLY. SUBSCRIPTION PRICE, TWELVE DOLLARS PER ANNUM. NO. 60, 
/ 

DECEMBER 1, 1891. ENTERED AT THE NEW YORK, N. Y., POST OFFICE AS SECOND CLASS MAIL MATTER. 


COPYRIGHT, 1891, 

BY ROBERT BONNER’S SONS. 


{All rights reserved.) 



THE LITTLE COUNTESS. 


CHAPTER T. 

THE FUNERAL CHAPEL. 

H, grandfather! 1 have had a ter- 
rible fright. U-u-gh ! I shud- 
der when I think of coming 
through that dismal brook-lane 
all by myself at midnight 1 I 
was on my last round ; and had 
stopped underneath the burgo- 
master’s window, to give him a parting blast — 
for I’ll waken him a dozen times every night 




8 


The Little Countess. 


but ril convince him that a girl can perform the 
duties of a night-watchman ! — when, just as I 
raised the horn to my lips, I heard the strangest 
sound — directly above my head. U-g-h ! the 
cold chills run over me when I think of it. And 
what do you suppose it was, grandfather? — the 
— bell — on — the — funeral-chapel ! and there was 
I, all alone, not a soul near — the night dark as 
pitch; and everybody sound asleep. Ugh-h-h ! 
it was horrible ! 

‘‘ When all was again still I got vexed for 
being so silly as to let the ringing of a bell frighten 
me, and said to myself : ‘ What a silly goose 

you are, to imagine that it was the chapel-bell ! 
A window rattled somewhere ; or a rusty 
weather vane creaked in the wind. The chapel- 
bell has not tolled for years, then why should it 
ring now — at midnight, when everybody in 
the village is sound asleep ?’ I quieted my 
fears by such reasoning ; and, concluding to let 
the burgomaster enjoy his dreams in peace, 
started down the lane ; but I had not walked ten 


The Ftineral Chapel, 


9 


steps, when : Bim — bim — bim — there it was 
again ! no mistaking it this time — it was the 
chapel-bell. My knees trembled so I could 
scarcely stand upright ; and my feet seemed 
glued to the earth. But I had enough sense left 
to know that I couldn’t stop there shivering 
until daylight; so 1 grasped the lantern firmly 
in one hand, m}^ staff in the other, and began to 
say my prayers. I started forward once more’ 
determined not to look toward that dreadful 
chapel, but when I got alongside the window, 
my eyes would keep turning toward it, and 
ugh-h-h !” 

Here convulsive sobs choked further speech, 
and the girl flung herself on her knees beside the 
old watchman’s bed, and buried her face in his 
pillow. The invalid coughed, gasped for 
breath, then said in ,a fretful tone : 

What could you see in the chapel window 
at this hour, you foolish child ? Night after 
night, for eight-and-forty years, have I passed 
b}^ the funeral-chapel, and I have yet to see or 


lO 


The Little Countess, 


hear anything more startling than my own 
shadow, or a loose tile on — ” 

'L saw two fiery eyes glaring at me from the 
window,’' interrupted his granddaughter, her 
teeth chattering. saw two fiery eyes as 

plainly as I see you ; and the little panes of 
glass rattled in the leaden frames as if they were 
shaken by a furious wind. There! — gracious 
powers ! Don’t you hear it ? — Ugh-h-h ! ^ All 

good spirits praise the Lord,’ ” came in smothered 
accents from the pillow in whose feathery depths 
the shivering lass had again hidden her face. 

With a painful effort the aged watchman lifted 
his rheumatic limbs from the couch, and sat 
upright : 

“ Open the window, Liesi,” he commanded. 

The stern tone called Liesi from her devotions. 
She rose from her knees, swiftly crossed the 
floor and flung back the sash. Then with one 
bound, sprang back to the bed, where she 
cowered among the feathers like a bird in the 
sheltering nest. 


The Funeral Chapel 1 1 

The crisp morning breeze swept into the room, 
bearing on its wings the resinous fragrance of 
the pine forest. Now and then might be heard, 
mingled with the murmuring of the trees, the 
silvery tinkle of the mountain brook, which 
found its way into the valley, from the rocky 
summit of the range outlined darkly against the 
gray sky. 

The old man listened in silence for several 
minutes ; then, with an impatient gesture, he said : 

Mere childish nonsense, Liesi ; you heard an 
owl. You don't know how the chapel bell 
sounds — anH wouldn't know what it was it you 
heard it. It hasn't been tolled since you were 
born ; besides, no one but the princess has a key 
to the chapel, and it isn’t likely she would be 
there at this hour. You are — " 

A sharp exclamation from the bed interrupted 
his garrulity ; but this time he did not reprove her 
terror. Above the mysterious voices of the sum- 
mer night, the tolling bell might be plainly heard. 

There !’' in triumph, if with chattering teeth, 


The Little Countess. 


I 2 

ejaculated Liesi. Is that a7i owl? Was I mis- 
taken ?” 

No — no — you are right hurriedly respond- 
ed her grandfather, groping with trembling 
hands about the floor for his sabots, I might 
have guessed that it was ringing for her highness 
— her time is near 

There was silence for several moments, then 
Liesi, whom the knowledge that the ghost 
was a peiidctly regular one, had restored to 
tranquility, inquired : 

How old IS the princess T 

My senior by seven years,’' answered the 
watchman, coughing, and drawing more closely 
about his spare frame the heavy great coat. 
Then he picked up the horn Liesi had carelessly 
dropped on the floor, and seated himself beside 
the open window. 

Go to sleep, child,” he added. ‘‘ lean watch 
from here the rest of the night. My eyes and 
ears are still as good as the best ; and we two, 
Liesi, my girl, will keep faithfully to our post 


The Funei^al ChapeL 


13 


until Lorenz comes home. Yes, yes,” he went 
on in a rambling tone, ‘‘for eight-and-forty years 
have I kept watch and ward over yonder village, 
while its citizens slept soundly and in safety.” 

The old man’s trained glance scanned the 
shadowy landscape below him, and perfect 
silence reigned in the little room. Liesi seemed 
to have forgotten her fear in slumber, but no, 
after a pause she drew a long breath, and said in 
a tone of relief : 

“ Thank heaven ! the cocks are beginning to 
crow. Now it won’t ring an}^ more.” 

“ What will not ring any more ?” absently 
queried her grandfather, without turning from 
the window. 

“ The chapel bell, ” returned Liesi, yawning. 
Again there was silence so complete that the 
heavy dew could be heard dropping from the 
leaves of the vine outside the window. 

“ How old is she ?” abruptly inquired Liesi, 
after another pause. 

“ The princess ? — ninety years,” replied the old 


H 


The Little Countess, 


man. She was a great beauty in her youth — 
much handsomer even than the little countess.'’ 

“ Humph ! nobod\’ thinks Countess Candide 
beautiful,” in a contemptuous tone remarked 
Liesi. How can a girl with such hair and eyes 
be called pretty? You can’t tell what color 
they are : nor whether she is tall or short ; good 
or bad. She doesn’t let anybody get acquainted 
with her — she’s more like a lizard than a human 
being ; she darts so swiftly up the steepest paths ; 
slips so easily through the narrowest crevices — 
she’s here — there — over yonder, all in a moment ; 
and yet never seems in a hurry ; but saunters 
along as leisurely and haughtily as if she owned 
the whole world.” 

She is different from her highness, the 
princess, who was reared amid luxury and 
splendor, ” observed the watchman. 

Then why is her highness so beggarly poor 
now ?” questioned Liesi, rising from the pillow, 
and supporting herself on her elbow. Where 
is all her wealth ?” 


The Funeral Chapel 


15 


The old man coughed for several seconds, and 
waited until he had regained his breath, before 
he spoke again. 

Long ago — he began in a retrospective 
tone, with his eyes fixed on the village, we 
had a goodly stretch of ground along the hill- 
side ; there were some splendid apple trees that 
bore the finest fruit in the neighborhood. Every 
year we would send a basket of apples to the 
castle, and one to the Herr Pastor in the village. 
But one day a cloud-burst washed all of our 
beautiful garden — all except the little plot out 
yonder — down into the valley. One old apple 
tree clung by the roots to the bare rocks, and 
for two or three years continued to bloom and 
bear fruit. But one after another of its limbs 
withered and died, and at last the old tree 
looked like a fantastic iron monument. The 
birds wouldn’t build any more in the dead 
branches ” 

Here, the old man’s voice, which had been 
growing fainter and fainter, sank to an unin- 


i6 


The Little Countess. 


telligible murmur. After a minute or two, he 
roused himself, and resumed in a louder tone: 

‘‘ It is destiny, Liesi, destiny. Her highness 
is like our old apple tree. She clings to her 
ruins up yonder, and God alone knows how she 
Inanages to exist. I wonder what has become of 
the count. He is a wild youth — like all the rest 
of the counts von Halla — reckless spendthrifts !’* 

“ Why isn’t Candide a princess like her grand- 
mother?” irrelevantly queried Liesi. 

Because her father and her grandfather were 
simply counts, while her grandmother is a prin- 
cess born. Greatness, my little Liesi, never for- 
gets itself, even though it be forgotten by all the 
rest of the world.” 

Liesi made no reply ; but her thoughts evi- 
dently gave her satisfaction ; her smile revealed 
her white teeth, while her black eyes sparkled 
with a triumphant light : 

Your time will come, my haughty beggar 
countess!” she muttered. ‘‘ The time is coming 
when your pride will be humbled !” 






The Ftmeral ChapeL 


17 


The old watchman did not hear the spiteful 
words of his granddaughter. He continued to 
gaze, with the stolid indifference of age, at the 
exquisite tints which the approaching dawn was 
scattering broadcast over earth and sky. 

‘‘ When will the princess die ?’' after awhile 
questioned Liesi with a yawn. 

Who can tell T absently responded the old 
man. Her death, like the shooting star, will 
change nothing. Poor little countess !” he 
added in a pitying tone, what will become of 
her? She will have nothing — nothing!’’ 

Pooh 1” disdainfully ejaculated Liesi ; ‘‘ she 
won’t think herself poor, Pll warrant you 1 And 
everybody will bow before her just the same — 
especially the men folk. Brother Lorenz used 
often to wish that the ' little red-cap ’ up at the 
castle was a poor girl, the daughter of humble 
people like ourselves — he'd not ask for a hand- 
somer wife, he said. Even yet, he thinks nothing 
too good for the little countess.” 

‘‘Ah-bah!” growled the old watchman, ‘‘why 


T 


The Little Countess, 


don’t you go to sleep ? There’s no need for both 
of us to wait until the black bird begins his 
morning song — go to sleep !” 

Ah-h-h !” — stretching herself, and yawning — 
‘‘ I can’t sleep for thinking of the ghost in the 
chapel. I see those dreadful fiery eyes every 
time I shut my own — ugh ! It was horrible, and 
I shall tell Candide so. I sha-ah-all,” — yawning 
— ‘‘just tell her, I — ah-h ” — another yawn — “dear 
me ! there’s the daylight, and that means work. 
How I hate work! It’s nothing but work — wo 
— wo — wo — ” 

The sentence was not completed ; for in spite 
of the ghost, she had closed her eyes, and was 
sound asleep. 



CHAPTER II. 

CANDIDE AND HER COUSIN. 

Liesi, the watchman’s granddaughter and 
substitute, settled herself comfortably with her 
sewing on the stone bench in front of the cot- 
tage — not because that particular spot was the 
most convenient one for her work ; but from 
where she sat there was an uninterrupted view 
of the washed-out wagon road, which led from 
the castle on the hill-top to the village at its 
foot. 

The picturesque village with its slate-roofed 
houses, and copper church-belfry, possessed no 
attractions for Liesi’s bright eyes. Occasion- 
ally her glance would turn furtively toward the 
funeral chapel, in whose tall gable the rose- 
window glimmered in the morning sunlight like 



20 


The Little Countess, 


the ej^e of a cycloss. More frequently, how- 
ever, her eyes would wander up the castle road, 
once an oft traversed thoroughfare, but now 
merely a channel for the heavy rains and loose 
stones. 

1 wonder how they will manage to bring the 
coffin down to the chapel?’’ mused Liesi, lean- 
ing her head back against the door-post and 
gazing idly up at the ruins which crowned the 
summit of the steep hill. The watchman’s 
granddaughter knew very well what was inside 
yon ruined wall. She knew that the ancient 
draw-bridge had fallen to decay, and that 
entrance to the court was now effected only by 
the means of two or three rough planks. She 
knew that one wing of the palace ” was a heap 
of ruins ; that great trees were growing in the 
tower; that but four human beings inhabited 
the vast structure yet remaining. And yet, 
whenever she thought about her aristocratic 
neighbors on the hill-top, Liesi was mystified 
anew. Everything and everybody up yonder 


Candide and He7'‘ Consin. 


2 I 

was so different from the rest of the world ! 
Nothing ever seemed to happen up yonder 
either ! Nothing new ever came to pass in yon 
proud beggar castle. To Liesi it seemed as if 
the people who dwelt within the so-called 
palace, would go on living — as they had been 
living as long as she could remember — to the 
end of time ! Years ago, it is true, Candide von 
Halla had been a little girl like herself ; but 
even then the dignity and pride of the youthful 
countess had been that of a grown-up lad3^ 
She had worn the same blue linen gowns then 
as now — gowns like those worn by the wives of 
the charcoal burners in the mountains. And 
her peculiar red-gold hair then as now streamed 
like a cascade of flame over the shoulders to her 
waist. 

Liesi’s own life had been a rather eventful one. 
She could remember how her brothers and 
sisters, one after another, died and were buried 
in the little church-yard in the village ; how her 
father, who worked in the quarries, was killed 


22 


The Little Countess, 


by a blast. She remembered when she and her 
only remaining brother, after their mother’s 
death, came to live with their grandfather. 
There was a grandmother, too, at that time. 
She had been a servant before her marriage, at 
the castle — in the days of its prosperity, when 
the princess wore rustling silks and sparkling 
jewels. Then the grandmother died ; and 
Lorenz, who hoped to succeed his grandfather 
in the watchman’s office, was called to march 
with the king’s troops. This was a great mis- 
fortune, for the old watchman was very feeble. 
Fortunately, Liesi proved a willing assistant, 
and in spite of the surly burgomaster’s prediction, 
faithfully and ably fulfilled the duties of watch- 
man in the village of Hohneck. In a word, so 
many events had been crowded into Liesi’s nine- 
teen years, that it is not to be wondered at if she 
thought time must stand still up at the castle. 

However, now that the princess was going to 
die, there would be a change. Candide would 
doubtless turn into a blackberry vine — the sort 


Candide and Her Cousin, 


23 


that grew with so rank a luxuriance all over the 
court-3"ard. Monsieur Anatole, the little old 
butler, would shrivel up to nothing; and Doris, 
the saffron-hued, sour-visaged housekeeper, 
would turn to stone, and become overgrown 
with moss and lichens, like the rest of the cen- 
tury-old statues and columns which were 
crumbling to dust! 

Liesi burst into a merry laugh at her quaint 
fancies. Her eyes were closed, because of the 
dazzling sunshine, which was hovering over the 
rocky hillside in quest of a commodious spot 
for its noonday rest among the ferns and honey- 
suckles, and all the rest of the plants, great and 
small, that had taken root where there was as 
good as no room for anything with vegetable life. 
Liesi’s eyes being shut was the reason she started 
so violently when an imperious voice, close 
beside her, demanded to know the cause of her 
merriment. 

Princesses and countesses are not the only 
persons who are allowed to laugh when the}^ 




The Little Countess. 


feel like it, I hope!” was the girl’s rather impo- 
lite repl3\ '' Dear knows ! the fright I got last 
night because of the ghost in your chapel, was 
enough to make me forget how to do anything 
but shiver.” 

The person to whom Liesi addressed this defi- 
ant speech, was, as may be guessed, the youth- 
ful Countess Candide von Halla, who, with her 
mane of red-gold hair streaming over the 
shoulders of her blue linen gown, was haughtily 
surveying the watchman’s granddaughter. 

A wide-rimmed, coarse straw hat hung by its 
ribbon on her back ; and the style of her simple 
gown would better have suited a religious devo- 
tee on a pilgrimage, than a young lady of modern 
days. That such a garment should lend grace 
and elegance to the slender, symmetrical figure 
it enveloped, was by no means owing to the 
talent of the dressmaker. 

Candide crossed her arms on her breast, and 
with a warlike toss of her head, said : 


Candicte and Her Cotisin, 


25 


Don’t say such silly things, Liesi ; there 
aren’t any ghosts in our chapel.” 

Oh ! indeed, aren’t there any ghosts in your 
chapel ?” with a sneering laugh echoed Liesi. 
‘'I suppose the bell didn’t toll last night? and 
I didn’t see two fiery eyes blazing at me from 
the window? and 1 didn’t hear the glass rattle 
in the window-frames until I thought it would 
break into little pieces ! Oh ” 

“ Come with me,” interrupted the countess in 
a commanding tone, turning toward the chapel. 

I daren’t leave grandfather; he’s ill,” sulkily 
returned Liesi, keeping her seat. 

You may safely leave him for five minutes, 
and that will be quite long enough to convince 
you that no ghosts are in the chapel.” 

‘‘ Perhaps it was you who ” Liesi began, 

but stopped abruptly when Candide turned upon 
her a glance that was like the flash of a polished 
steel dagger. 

“ My good girl — ” the countess spoke with 
quiet dignity — I don’t pretend to guess what it 


26 


The Little Countess, 


Avas that frightened )^ou ; but I can assure you 
that it was nothing supernatural. Coiue.” 

Liesi rose reluctantly, and followed the coun- 
tess, who walked swiftly up the steep path to the 
narrow plateau on which stood the ancient 
chapel. An iron fence had, in former days, 
enclosed this last resting-place of the deceased 
von Hallas ; but scarcely a vestige of the metal 
remained, nor was there any evidence that efforts 
had been made in late years to restore the 
pristine order. 

As the two girls drew near to the chapel door, 
the bell suddenly repeated its mysterious, bim- 
bim-bim ; and the next instant the window near- 
est the belfry began to shake in a furious 
manner. Liesi uttered a cry of alarm, but closed 
her lips with sullen determination when she saw 
that her companion betrayed not the slightest 
fear. Without a word, Candide seized hold of one 
of the stout ivy branches swinging from the low 
eaves, thrust the toe of her boot into a crevice in 
the wall, and lightly swung herself to a level 


Caudide and Her Constn, 


27 


with the lower sash of the window, where her 
eyes were confronted by another pair, green 
and gleaming. 

Before Liesi had recovered from her amazed 
admiration of the countess' acrobatic feat, that 
young lady was again by her side. 

Just as I thought;" she said, quietly. ‘‘ It is 
Ralf. I left him in the chapel yesterday ; and 
the poor fellow has been trying to get out by 
swinging himself by the bell-rope against the 
window — see for yourself." 

With these words she thrust the key into the 
rusty lock, and with a strength that was sur- 
prising in hands so small and delicate, turned the 
bolt. As the heavy, iron-bound door swung back, 
a huge white cat sprang from the mouldy gloom 
of the interior to Candide's shoulder, where he 
buried his claws in her hair, and, in his ecslacy 
at being released, rubbed his head caressingly 
against her cheek and ear. 

Poor Ralf ; poor fellow !" in a gentle tone 
murmured the countess, stroking the creature’s 


28 


The Little Countess. 


soft fur. Then to Liesi : “You may go back to 
your grandfather, my good girl. You have 
seen that there is nothing here to frighten you.’' 

But Liesi thought differently. In her opinion 
the youthful countess and the uncanny pet cat, 
were quite enough to alarm any reasonable 
mortal ! 

What attraction was it that lured the countess, 
day after day, to the dingy funeral chapel ? 
Certainly it was not an agreeable retreat — 
with the plaster crumbled from walls and ceil- 
ing, and lying thick on the tombs and monu- 
ments. It was not for devout meditation, that 
Candide lingered for hours among the tombs of 
her ancestors. She had no sympathetic glance 
for the impressive representation of the noble 
founder of the chapel in full armor who knelt at 
the foot of a massive stone cross. At his back 
were ranged five sons, in similar armor and 
attitude ; and in their rear appeared a small lad, 
who, having quitted this mortal sphere in early 
childhood, was clad in simple shift, without any 


Ca7idide and Her Cousin, 


29 


of the attributes of earthly rank and dignity. 
Facing the noble founder was his noble spouse, 
also kneeling. And three comely daughters 
with very wide sleeves, and very narrow waists. 
Another deceased von Halla was pictured in a 
huge periwig, a third in a picturesque Spanish 
cloak. From the founding of the chapel to 
the preceding century, when the plastic glorifi- 
cation of the von Halla family concluded with a 
clumsy monument overloaded with stiff, taste- 
less ornamentation — roses and bay wreaths, 
vases and trophies of battle, and the family 
escutcheon (an eagle's talons clutching a ser- 
pent) the descendents of the founder had evi- 
dently striven to emulate the virtues of their 
pious ancestor. Then intervened a blank of 
eighty years before another edifying page was 
appended to the marble chronicle, when Ritter 
George Peter Wilbrand von Halla took posses- 
sion of the left wall; and Hans Gerhard Wil- 
brand, in voluminous periwig guarded the altar. 


30 


The Little Co tint ess. 


and Hugo Wilbrand’s inartistic record covered 
the entire right wall. 

Here and there in the stone floor, the marble 
effigy of a Wilbrand von Halla humbly submit- 
ted his noble nose to the tread of the passer-b3\ 
Other tablets were ranged alongside the altar 
rail, or let into the walls and floor at various 
points of vantage ; but the most noticable strug- 
gle for prominence had been made by an Adolf 
Wilbrand who had certainly known how to 
‘‘ help himself.'’ In the centre of the chapel a 
substantial marble column upheld an adamantine 
cushion on which reposed various insignia of 
office — the property of the said Adolf Wilbrand 
(they were all Wilbrands). Here were decora- 
tions ; diplomas ; swords ; a plumed hat and 
gauntlets ; and a chamberlain’s golden key. 
Those of my readers who are versed in the 
affairs of state, will understand how loth to quit 
this mortal stage must have been the illustrious 
sleeper whom Death summoned a few hours 

after his elevation to the chamberlain’s office! 

■ 


Candide and Her Cotisin. 


Candide seated herself on the broad base of 
this imposing monument ; Ralf curled himself 
among the petrified honors on the marble cushion, 
from which elevation, softly purring, and feign- 
ing an unconcerned doze, the sagacious creature 
attentively observed his mistress. She was so 
quiet, so motionless, that Ralf’s simulated slum- 
ber might perhaps have become real, had not a 
sudden but almost imperceptible movement of 
her hand toward her heart renewed his feline 
watchfulness and suspicion. 

Ralf was not to be caught napping a second 
time — not he ! In spite of his mistress' seeming 
calm, Ralf knew that her hands were trembling, 
that her heart was beating more rapidly than 
usual because a stone that had been displaced by 
an approaching footstep was rolling down the 
path outside. A moment later, the gloom of the 
chapel deepened ; a figure obstructed the door- 
way, and for several seconds the new-comer — a 
young gentleman — in silence, smilingly surveyed 
the group in the centre of the chapel. 


32 


The Little Coimtess. 


“ Well, cousin,” he said at last, in a bantering 
tone, don’t you intend to speak to me?” 

Ralf and his mistress rose at the same instant, 
and both mistress and cat with changeful glances 
surveyed the intruder in the doorway. Ralf’s 
back curved defiantly ; while Candide said, with- 
out a trace of her inward excitement betraying 
itself in her calm demeanor and tone : 

‘‘Your coming is a surprise, cousin Wil- 
brand.” 

“Yes, I dare say it is,” returned the young 
man, idly tapping his boot with a slender walk- 
ing-stick. “ Had I waited for an invitation from 
your ladyship, I should not have had the pleasure 
of another sight of my ancestral estate.” 

Candide passed her hand over Ralf’s electric 
fur, as she responded in a cool tone : 

“ Neither grandmamma nor I desired your 
presence at the palace.” 

“ So ?’' — he laughed with affected gaiety. 
“ And I am just hungering for a sight of her 
highness’ austere countenance.” 


Candide and Her Cousin. 


33 


A keen glance flashed from beneath Candide's 
golden lashes, and rested for a brief second on 
her cousin’s face. Then her e3"es dropped with 
seeming indifference to the hand which was still 
slowly stroking Ralf’s back ; but no sound came 
from her lips. 

Wilbrand ran his fingers — white and shapely 
as a woman’s —through his hair, then said, while 
a bright flush reddened his cheek : 

'‘You are still the same over-wise little moral- 
ist as of old, Candide. I thought — I hoped you 
might, by this, have learned to adapt yourself to 
our modern age. Frankly, and seriously, my 
dear Didi, I can’t understand why you should 
remain so irreconcilably offended with me, 
because her highness is compelled to wash her 
hands in a china bowl, instead of the silver laver 
I had to sacrifice to the greed of my creditors. 
Had there been the slightest possibility of 
grandmamma’s exchanging the laver for pretty 
gowns for you — for sweets, or even bread, God 
knows, Didi, I would have gone to prison rather 


34 


The Little Countess. 


than have appropriated it to my own use ! But 
I knew very well that her highness would not 
part with the old rubbish so long as she lived ; 
and when she is gone, — Didi, you know I— I — 
expect to take care of you.’’ 

He had spoken earnestly and with feeling, and 
now waited with evident anxiety for his cousin’s 
answer. 

The subterfuge which might excuse an ordin- 
ary thief, will not suffice to exculpate the last 
Count von Halla,” she said quickly, without lift- 
ing her eyes from Ralf. 

Wilbrand suppressed the forcible expletive 
which rose to his lips, but he drew his tall, lithe 
frame to its full height, grasped his cane firmly 
in his hand, and demanded : 

Do you mean to call me a thief. Countess von 
Halla?” 

Ralf arched his back at the threatening tone, 
and thought he understood the sudden move- 
ment on his mistress’s part ; but he alone had 


Candide and He7'‘ Cousin, 


35 


noticed it. When Candide spoke, it was with 
her usual perfect self-command : 

^‘You knew that grandmamma always used 
the silver laver ; she has used it from her girl- 
hood. She misses it daily, and its absence daily 
tells her of our extreme poverty. You might 
have waited a little while longer,” she concluded, 
with a significant gesture toward the crypt at 
her feet. 

Wilbrand bit his lip. 

‘^You are unjust, Candide,” he said after a 
pause. My birth, my position in society, owes 
me something. I ought not to be subjected to 
humiliating financial embarrassments. You are 
aware, I presume, that the laver was part of the 
family silver, and that / am the heir.^” 

‘‘ Yes; but instead of disposing of it just now, 
you might have taken advantage of the scholar- 
ships founded by our ancestors. A professional 
education would certainly enable you to sup- 
port yourself. Besides, you know it was Adolf 


The Little Countess. 


36 

Wilbrand von Halla’s desire that his house 
should give a diplomat to the fatherland — ” 

Nature ” — flippantly interrupted her cousin 
— '‘unfortunately frustrated Adolf Wilbrand's 
commendable design in that she gave you the 
ambition of a diplomat, and to me the tastes, the 
temperament of our frivolous ancestress, the 
beautiful Mathildis, who was the envy of her 
sex and the despair of her confessor. No, no, 
Didi, hope for nothing of that sort from me. 
Even were you a second Minerva, to offer me 
the favored position under your brazen shield, 
I should never become a scholar. I shall ever 
love and honor you above all your sex, but 
after you — there is so much else that allures." 

Ralf, who had thrust his pliant body between 
the countess' arm and her waist, gave voice to a 
sudden sharp mew of pain. His mistress pushed 
him from her lap, brushed back the hair from her 
temples, and said : 

" It you can’t, and will not study, how do you 
propose to earn your daily bread ?" 


Candide and Her Cousin. 


37 


‘‘ Humph ! that’s a damned curt question, 
Didi,” returned her cousin with a forced laugh. 

Modesty almost prevents a detailed enumera- 
tion of my qualifications. I may not possess the 
brain of a diplomat, but I certainly may boast 
the physique of an athlete. I can ride like a 
minotaur; fight like an Ajax; have the aim of a 
William Tell. I can leap, swim, box — all with a 
proficiency that ought to bring thousands into 
my purse. Don’t you imagine then, my dear 
cousin, that I might, if I tried, find somewhere 
a hook on which to hang our family shield?” 

He stretched himself indolently, and looked 
at his cousin with a quizzical smile in his brown 
eyes. 

What a pity the gladiators of Roman 
Antiquity are out of fashion!” ironically 
remarked the countess. 

Yes, it is ; but our day has professions some- 
what similar. I might become an acrobat, or a 
model for painters. As an athlete, a riding 


38 


The Little Countess, 


master — or even circus rider, I might win laurels 
and a fortune. I — 

He had spoken deliberately, and with appar- 
ent sincerity ; but ceased abruptly when Can- 
dide, with a half stifled sob, buried her face in 
her hands. 

Didi — my dearest, my sweetest !” he cried 
with sudden passion, springing toward her with 
outstretched arms. But she evaded them, and 
fled to the altar, where she flung one arm around 
the peruked bust of Hans Gerhard Wilbrand, 
and with the other repulsed further advance 
from her cousin. 

“ Candide !'’ He stopped, and looked reproach- 
fully at her. Haven't you guessed that it is 
love for you that brings me here ? Have you 
forgotten that we have, from our childhood, 
lived only for each other ? I have forgotten 
nothing— nothing, dear Didi ; and I shall remem- 
ber, while I live, that all the sunshine, all the 
affection that brightens my existence comes 
from you — that you suffer for my follies, bear 


Caiidide and Her Cousin, 


39 


with my faults. Your patience, my dearest, 
deserves a better reward than I can give — I have 
disappointed your expectations, your hopes ; 
but do not — Oh ! do not for one instant doubt 
my love. Didi, sweetest — dearest, promise that 
you will leave the dismal ruin up yonder, and 
come with me into the gay, beautiful world?’' 

No, Wilbrand;" returned Candide, in a 
passionless tone. I cannot give you that 
promise.” 

You cannot ?” — he laughed harshly. Have 
you 2fiven it to some one else? Has some one 
else told you how beautiful you are ? Or — or 
has that unfortunate business about the laver 
changed your feelings toward me ?” 

'' The theft ” — there was a slight, but unmis- 
takable emphasis on the word — certainlyjaltered 
my opinion of you, Wilbrand.” 

“Then I may as well go away again?” he 
said, his face darkening. 

“You may. 

He turned, and walked proudly erect toward 


40 


The Little Countess, 


the door, where he halted, and walked back to 
the motionless figure beside the monument. 

Didi,'' — in a faltering tone — ‘‘ will you let 
me go without one kind word 

She withdrew her arm from the marble, and 
came swiftly down the aisle to his side. 

‘‘ No, Cousin ; I am going to give you a 
remembrance of this visit — '' 

As if I could forget it, Didi,” he interrupted 
with returning tenderness ; but she shrugged 
her shoulders, and handed him an antique missal 
with gold clasps. 

‘‘ It was used by our frivolous ancestress, 
Mathildis, on state occasions,*' she said quietly. 

Wilbrand laughed. ‘‘Well done, Didi. 
Because I have no religion in my heart, you 
think I need this ostentatious display of piety. 
Thanks, I don’t think I care for the book." 

Without a word, Candide took from her pocket 
a large knife, and cutting the golden clasps from 
the book, held them toward her cousin. A deep 
flush covered his face. 


Candide and Her Cousin, 


4 ^ 


No, Didi ; already I have taken too much — 
this is your only treasure.’' 

‘‘Do I need gold? Am not 1 beautiful?” she 
demanded in a mocking tone. 

“ Yes, yes, you are beautiful, Didi, you — ” 

“Then take the gold,” she interrupted, thrust- 
ing the clasps into his hand. “ I do not want it 
— or need it.” 

“ Not need it?”» he echoed with a harsh laugh. 
“ In all this wide world there is nothing I need 
so much as gold — gold — gold ! I will take it, 
Didi, and some time — I solemnly swear it ! — you 
shall have your reward for the sacrifices you 
have made for me.’’ 

She crossed her arms on her breast, looked at 
him, but made no reply. 

“You do not believe my words, Didi,” he 
said. 

“ I was not thinking about them.” 

“Well, time will tell — you shall see. Fare- 
well, Didi.” 

“ Farewell,” she responded, ignoring his out- 


42 


The Little Countess. 


stretched hand. He looked at her a moment in 
silence. 

“ Devil in woman’s form !” he hissed with 
darkening brow. ‘‘ You will yet repent your 
pride and obstinacy.’' 

“We will await that hour,” she rejoined coldly, 
turning to look after Ralf, who was darting 
excitedly among the tombs. 

Wilbrand’s angry footsteps gradually receded. 
With her clasped hands tightly pressed against 
her heart, Candide listened until the sounds died 
away. Then, her eyes glistening with unshed 
tears, and with an expression of keenest anguish 
on her pale face, she wandered from tomb to 
tomb, murmuring with quivering lips: “Do 
not ask it of me, ye souls of the Hallas. It is not 
in my power to bring him back to you.” 

On quitting the chapel, Count Wilbrand, 
whose heart was filled with anger and resent- 
ment, strode rapidly toward the village. He 
was passing the watchman’s cottage without a 
glance, when Liesi’s pert, “ Good-morrow, 


Candide a7id Her Cousin, 


43 


Count Halla, have you forgotten Watchman’s 
Liesi ?” arrested his steps, and drew his gaze 
toward the trim figure on the stone bench. 

Instantly his frivolous nature asserted itself; 
his face brightened as he turned toward the 
cottage. 

‘‘ Good-morning, my pretty Liesi,” he 
exclaimed. Is it likely that a man with 
eyes in his head, and a healthy heart beating 
against his ribs, should forget a face like yours ? 
Why, a queen might be glad to exchange her 
eyes for a pair like yours, my beauty ! How is 
the old watchman ? Does he still guard the 
worthy citizens of Hohneck ? And Lorenz, how 
goes it with the fine fellow T* 

Thank you, Herr Count, thank you kindly,’’ 
simpered Liesi, courtesying. ‘‘ Grandfather has 
the rheumatism, and brother Lorenz is in the 
army.” 

‘‘ Indeed? And who — ” assuming the attitude 
of a watchman blowing his horn — you under- 
stand?” 


44 


The Little Countess. 


“ Oh, yes — I am the watchman now, Herr 
Count,'' returned the girl with another coquettish 
courtesy. 

‘‘You?" incredulously inquired the young 
count. “ You ?" His merry laugh woke the 
echoes along the hillside. “ What a stupid lot are 
these Hohneckers ! Ha, ha, ha ! They lock up 
everything but the only treasure worth stealing 
in their village ! Have a care, my brave Liesi, 
that some one does not run away with the watch- 
man one of these fine nights," he concluded, 
seating himself beside the blushing Liesi. 

“ My brother will soon come home," she said 
with a gratified smile, pretending to thread her 
needle ; “ then he will take the watchman's staff 
and horn. He is first going to pay a visit to our ^ 
uncle in Prussia — the ‘rich miller' he is called. 

I wish I too might visit my uncle, who has only 
one daughter ; but nothing pleasant ever hap- 
pens to a poor girl like me." 

“ Am not I sitting here beside you, and think- 
ing how very pretty you are ? Isn't that some- 


Candide and Hei'^ Cousin, 


45 


thing pleasant ?” banteringly questioned the 
count. 

‘‘ Yes — but you are only in fun/’ with a pout 
responded Liesi. 

‘‘ And Lorenz is in dead earnest with his rich 
cousin, eh ? Perhaps she will not listen to him T* 

“ Oh, yes, she would listen to him quickly 
enough,” returned Liesi, but Lorenz does not 
care for keri' 

‘‘Not? Has she a hump on her back? does 
she squint ? or — ” 

“ No ; she is a very pretty girl, but — but — ” 

“Well — but what?” urged Wilbrand. 

“ Can’t you guess ?” — with a* coquettish glance 
from the corner of her eye, “ Might not Lorenz 
be in love with some one else ?” 

“ Has the poor fellow already got himself into 
a scrape ? He began early, I must confess I” 
laughed the count. 

“ No, Lorenz hasn’t got himself into a scrape,” 
retorted Liesi ; “ the girl he is in love with 
doesn’t even dream that he is such a fool. She 


46 


The Little Countess. 


might do worse though than take our Renzi, for 
there isn't a handsomer fellow in all this region ; 
and I don't wonder he dares to look so 
high." 

'' Ah-h !" drawled Wilbrand, rising from the 
stone seat, and stretching his arms. Give my 
regards to your Renzi — for old times' sake — and 
tell him to take my advice, and not look at the 
sun — it might injure his sight ! And tell him, 
too, that I, Count von Halla, forbid his looking 
so high !" 

Good gracious ! but you are touchy !" pouted 
Liesi. “ Aren't you ashamed to make such pretty 
speeches to me, and then to get angry about a 
love affair that can't fn the least concern you." 

‘^True — it is none of my business," said Wil- 
brand moodily, ‘‘but I have a habit of meddling 
with affairs that don't concern me. I am — " he 
stopped abruptly, and said instead : “ Farewell, 

little night moth. Give my respects to the old 
man — and don’t forget to warn your Renzi against 
vain dreaming." 


Candide and Her Cousin. 47 

Before Liesi could reply, he sprang nimbly as 
a chamois down the rocky hillside, and vanished 
from her sight. 




CHAPTER III. 

IN THE PALACE. 

For several minutes after the count had disap- 
peared, Liesi sat idly staring at the road before 
her. She was tired of sewing; her grandfather 
had fallen asleep in his chair, and the hot sun- 
shine was streaming over his pallid face and 
hoary head. Liesi glanced indifferently toward 
him, but made no move to draw the curtain and 
shield him from the sun’s burning ra3^s. She 
was too tired to move ! She settled herself back 
in the shade of the grape-vine, rested her head 
against the window frame, and was soon sleep- 
ing soundly. 

This was why no one at the cottage saw the 
shaggy brown pony jog slowly up the hill ; why 



In the Palace. 


49 


no one heard the rider alight at the door, and 
approach the sleeping Liesi. It was not easy to 
guess the age of the new-comer — fifty, perhaps 
more ; whatever it was, he was yet a hearty, 
robust man, weatherproof, like one accustomed 
to battle with all manner of elemental hin- 
drances. 

‘‘ Hello ! my good girl,'* he exclaimed, in a 
rough, but good-humored tone, laying his hand 
on Liesi's shoulder. You’d better be brewing 
a nourishing broth for the old man in yonder, 
than snoozing here like a cat in the sunshine.” 

Liesi stretched her young limbs, and answered 
sulkily : 

It’s easy enough for one who hasn’t got to 
tramp about the streets all night to scold about 
sleeping in daylight.” 

The new-comer paid no attention to her words, 
but seated himself on the bench by her side, took 
off his hat, and fanned himself. 

There will be a change here before a great 


50 


The Little Countess, 


while/' he remarked, with a backward glance at 
the sleeper in the room. 

Yes, Lorenz is coming soon, then I shall be 
rid of the staff and horn," briskly responded 
Liesi. 

“ Humph !" grunted the doctor, for such he 
was ; you are very eager to be rid of what has 
given you bread for years ! The cuckoo fly 
away with me ! if the youngsters now-a-days 
aren't too proud — or too lazy, to follow in the 
footsteps of their fathers ! what you would like 
would be fine clothes and dainties, and no work. 
The devil only knows what has got into you and 
that brother of yours ! I wonder — " looking 
musingly up at the ruined wall on the hill-top — 
if your growing up in the shadow of greatness 
has anything to do with it?" 

Liesi, who did not quite comprehend his mean- 
ing, pondered a moment, then said : 

Do they know down in the village what hap- 
pened last night? The princess is going to die 
at last." 


In the Palace. 


5 ^ 


Ralf may, or may not have caused the ghostly 
tolling — all the same, it was an omen, and Liesi 
didn't care a straw about Candide's explanation. 
That Doctor Grunanger also believed in the 
omen was evident ; — at least he said nothing to 
the contrary, but rose in great haste and growled 
as he strode away : 

Give your grandfather something to eat, 
something strengthening, for no Christian likes 
to tell unpleasant news to a weak man. When I 
return from the castle I shall have something to 
tell him — something about Renzi." 

In his abstraction the doctor forgot his pony, 
and on foot began the ascent to the castle. But 
the sagacious little beast, perceiving his master’s 
departure, ceased cropping the grass which was 
growing between the stones, and trotted nimbly 
up the hill. 

Seppel — the diminutive of Bucephalus — was 
his master's most trusted friend and ally. On 
stormy nights, when the two groped their way, 
now over slippery mountain paths, now across 


52 


llie Little Coimtess. 


inundated lowland, to beds of pain and illness, 
each encouraged the other, and neither master 
nor steed ever stopped at any hindrance when 
duty called to suffering humanity. 

In fair weather like to-day both rider and 
pony were wont to be in the best of spirits. 
What wonder then if Seppel looked in surprise 
at his master's drooping mien and mournful 
countenance ? He thrust his wet nose against 
the doctor's hand, as if to ask : ‘‘ What troubles 
you to-day ? Why don't you ride up this steep 
hill?" 

The doctor stopped, and looked gravely into 
the pony's clear eyes. 

‘^Well, Sepp," he said, what do you think 
about it ?" 

Seppel nodded his head, and shook his shaggy 
mane. 

Yes, yes, old fellow," muttered the doctor, 
continuing to trudge alongside the pony, '' if 
only you and I had the management of affairs 
we should know what to do — there ! get along." 


In the Palace. 


53 


A hearty slap on the pony’s croup sent him 
trotting in advance to announce his master’s 
coming. 

Seppel clattered briskly through the outer 
gate, carefully modified his pace while crossing 
the rough planks, which served as a draw- 
bridge, then caracoled gracefully around the 
various heaps of stones and jungles of rank 
weeds in the court, and stopped in front of the 
main entrance of the castle. 

The sound of his hoofs brought a little wizened 
old man, in antiquated livery, to the door: 

“ Hey, Mademoiselle Doris!” he called back 
into the hall, here is this admirable steed. I go 
to announce Monsieur le Doctor a son Altessel 

Monsieur Anatole vanished into the hall, as 
the surly housekeeper appeared in the door. 

'' What nonsense 1 to make such an outcry 
every time the beast comes,” she muttered 
irritably, shading her eyes with her hand and 
peering toward the gate, where the doctor now 
appeared. 


54 


The Little Countess. 


Doctor Grunanger did not wait until Anatole 
returned with the intelligence that her highness 
would receive a visitor; but showed his disre- 
gard for ceremony by entering the hall with 
merely a friendly nod to the waiting Doris, and 
at once ascending the stone staircase which led 
to the second story. He quickly traversed the 
corridor to the ante-chamber adjoining the 
grand saloon. Here Anatole glided like a lizard 
from behind the moth-eaten tapestry which still 
adorned the walls, and with a flourish flung back 
the folding doors of the saloon. 

Monsieur le Doc teur Crinanger C he announced 
in his thin, cracked voice, gallicizing to the best 
of his ability the visitor's German name. 

Near the fire-place sat a tall, dignified dame 
dressed in black satin ; a row of fluffy white 
ringlets encircled her pale, aristocratic face. 
She bowed graciously to the doctor, holding 
toward him a thin, almost transparent hand, on 
which sparkled a magnificent diamond. 

“ Aha !" chuckled the doctor with a satisfied 


In the Palace. 


55 


smile. That last prescription fulfilled its 
mission. Your Highness is decidedly better.” 

Very much better, very much ; ” assented the 
princess. So much better, indeed, that after 
thirty years’ retirement from the world, 1 am 
thinking seriously of resuming my duties to 
society. My granddaughter, the Countess 
Candide, must be presented at court — a cere- 
mony that would have been performed ere this, 
had it not been for her singular — I may say fool- 
ish resolve. She has made a — a sort of vow, 
you know.” 

At her concluding words, the doctor glanced 
uneasily toward the deep window where the 
golden sunlight rested on the bowed head of the 
youthful Countess von Halla. She did not look 
up from her work, a web of delicate lace, but 
bent diligentl}’’ over the pillow, across which the 
tiny bobbins were swiftly hopping. 

Ah ! yes — yes — of course — hum— the vow — 
to be sure 1” stammered the doctor, half rising 
from his chair, and sitting down again. 


56 


The Little Countess. 


1 dare say,” resumed the princess in her 
stateliest manner, the piece of lace, which the 
countess intends for a church vestment, will 
soon be finished ; then I hope to introduce her 
to the world to which she belongs. Pray don’t 
imagine. Doctor, that I think lightly of such 
pious tasks — 1 don’t, indeed ! But that piece of 
lace often reminds me of Penelope’s web.” 

Countess von Halla inherits her piety from 
your Highness ; ” gallantly remarked the doctor, 
his keen glance again darting toward the win- 
dow-recess. 

Beg pardon !” loftily rejoined the haughty 
old lady. '' I never pretended to be fanatically 
pious ; only ordinary persons consider outward 
show necessary. My husband, of course, could 
not interest himself in religious affairs, conse- 
quently 1 was obliged to act for him, and myself 
too. Here her voice, which had been growing 
weaker and weaker, ended in a short, dry cough. 

It is — of — no consequence — of no — conse- 
quence — whatever,” she gasped, waving aside 


lu the Palace, 


57 


the doctor's offered assistance. It is only — 
only a — slight — hoarseness." 

The doctor walked to the window, lifted a 
corner of the delicate fabric between his thumb 
and finger, and said, as if to himself : 

Hum, yes, the vow — the vow." 

“ How soon do you think my work will be 
finished?" in a significant tone inquired the 
countess, fixing her clear eyes on his face. 

‘‘Two weeks — perhaps three;" he replied in 
an undertone. “ And when all is over, dear 
child, you must not forget your promise to 
depend on me !" 




CHAPTER IV. 

THE PRINCESS RETURNS TO GOOD SOCIETY. 

Minna Grunanger preferred to remain a 
spinster, because she thought it her duty to take 
care of her only brother. At least, this is what 
she always told her friends, whose knowing 
smiles and glances might have signified ^'Because 
nobody ever asked you to marry him,’' as well 
as, Yes, dear, we know very well that you are 
a shining example of sisterly devotion.” What- 
ever her friends may have thought about Minna’s 
sisterly devotion and self-sacrifice, her position 
inher brother’s house was the subject of frequent 
discussion at the Kaffee Klatsch,'' of which 
society Minna was a member. 

The married members of the Klatsch were 
unanimous in their decision that it was less 


Retur^i to Good Society, 


59 


trouble to keep house for a bachelor brother, than 
to slave and toil for a husband. The spinsters, 
on the contrary, to a woman declared themselves 
in favor of the husbands. 

‘‘Minna Grunanger's lot is paradise on earth,*’ 
asserted the matrons. “ She has everything in 
abundance. She does as she pleases, bas nothing 
to hinder her coming and going. The doctor is 
kindness itself, and his practice keeps him from 
home all day long. It is so annoying to have a 
man forever about the house !” 

“Oh, yes!’' sighed Minna, who was inclined to 
corpulency and sentimentalism, “ it is easy 
enough to talk. But Ludwig has his faults as 
well as the rest 1 Particularly of late, I notice 
that his ideas are so different from what they 
used to be — and at his age, too !’' 

She brushed a tear from her eye, and swallowed 
a rising sob. 

“ Fudge 1” brusquely exclaimed the wife of the 
apothecary. “ His digestion’s out of order; 
that will make any man whimsical.” 


6o 


The Little Countess, 


** No — no tearfully protested Minna, “ 1 

can’t say he’s whimsical, but — but — ” 

'^Well, what’s the matter with him, then ?” 
impatiently interrogated the matter-of-fact dame. 

Why — just think of it ! — but for mercy’s sake 
don’t breathe it to a soul ! — he came home one 
day last week, on Tuesday — no, it was Wednes- 
day — or, was it Tuesday ? Yes, it was Tuesday 
— now I remember. Well, as I said: he came 
home, Seppel trotted as usual into the stable, 
and Ludwig came into the house. He walked 
up and down the room several times without 
saying a word ; at last he stopped beside me and 
said : ‘ Minna, suppose you unlock the parlor 

door.’ I was dumbfounded, for, as you know, 
he just detests that room ; he says a parlor is 
the most useless luxury in the world, a place 
that fills him with the same disgust he feels when 
he sees a poor little butterfly with a pin stuck 
through its body — Ludwig is so peculiar ! 
Well, I unlocked the parlor, and Ludwig went 
in. ‘ Open the windows, Minna, and let out 


Return to Good Society, 


6i 


some of this musty gloom/ he said. I obeyed, 
but it went to my heart, I can tell you ! Then 
he coughed, looked at the wax image of the 
virgin on the mantel-piece, then at the Swiss 
Cottage on the shelf, and said — it was like a 
thunderbolt from a clear sky — ‘ Minna, Fm going 
to send a carpenter here in the morning to cut a 
door between those windows. I shall have new 
paper hung on the walls, and you must help me 
select a handsome new carpet — something taste- 
ful and attractive. No matter about the cost.* 
Think of it ! — ^ No matter about the cost " — those 
were my brother Ludwig’s very words!” 

How very singular,” exclaimed a chorus of 
feminine voices. 

'‘Yes, and since that fateful day,” resumed 
Minna ‘^all sorts of workmen have been doing 
all sorts of things in our once quiet home. If 
to-day were not Sunday, I shouldn’t be here tell- 
ing you my troubles. There was a time when 
Ludwig thought everything quite good enough 
for us. He never touches our best wines, or 


62 


The Little Countess, 


wants dainty dishes, because, he says, the poor 
people who are ill need such things more than 
we. And when Fd hint about the carpet look- 
ing worn, he’d say : ‘ Now, Minna, what are 

you thinking of? If we, who are very comfort- 
able, have any money to spare, there are hun- 
dreds of poor creatures that would be glad of 
our overplus !’ And now, our best things are 
‘old-fashioned, and shabby!’ The new carpet 
made the furniture look shabby, and we had to 
have suitable covers for the chairs, and sofa, 
and new curtains for the windows. The stove 
we have used for years was suddenly dis- 
covered to smoke ! Even the garden is to be 
altered; and Ludwig — Ludwig himself! — grubs 
and digs about in it, until the perspiration 
streams over his face. Day before yesterday — 
or was it yesterday? — no, it was the day before 
— a large wagon load of stones was dumped 
into the garden, and when I asked what they 
were for, what do you suppose he said ?” 


Return to Good Society, 


63 


The Klatschers, one and all, shook their heads 
and looked mystified. 

A FOUNTAIN !’' 

How very singular?’' again chanted the 
feminine chorus. 

‘‘Yesterday,” pursued Minna, “a large box 
arrived by express, ‘Ludwig!’ said I, ‘ here’s a 
box marked “ glass, with care. ’ ‘ Ail right, 

Minna,’ said he, ‘1 hope there’s nothing broken. 
It’s a new china service. Let’s unpack it.’ Well, 
it is as handsome as any china you ever laid 
eyes on I Real china, with a gold edge and 
blue band — good enough for a born princess.” 

“Humph !” here interposed the apothecary’s 
wife “ he is going to get married.” 

“ Going — to — get — married?” gasped Minna. 
“ Impossible 1 Horrible !” 

“ Worse might happen to him,” sententiously 
observed the Actuary’s wife. “ A good wife is 
a great blessing. There are in this very town 
several very nice girls of suitable age.” 

Minna’s, startled gaze rested on the speaker’s 


64 


The Little Coimtess, 


face. A light was beginning to dawn upon her ; 
the riddle was about to be solved. In the 
actuary's own household were four girls of 
“ suitable age while the apothecary's domicile 
could boast a round half dozen marriageable 
daughters. 

Minna felt the blood rise to her brain ; she 
started to her feet, stammered an excuse, and 
hurriedly left the room. Dear heaven ! all this 
trouble, and expense, and temper, for one of 
those silly girls ! 

Contrary to her expectations, Minna found her 
brother at home ; he was in his study, and so 
deeply absorbed in thought that he did not hear 
the door open. To the already tired Minna, the 
object which engrossed the doctor's attention 
was far more astonishing than his abstraction. 
Before him on the table was spread a large 
sheet of white paper ; on it lay a wonderfully beau- 
tiful piece of lace, fine as the web of a spider — a 
veritable work of art, on which the doctor's gaze 


Rehivn to Good Society, 


65 


rested as intently as if he were trying to count 
the almost invisible stitches. 

‘‘Ludwig Grunanger!’' exclaimed his sister, 
with the shrill abruptness of a trumpet blast. 

“ Ah, is that you, Minna ? Where have been ?'’ 
he asked without turning. 

“ Haven’t I had enough to trouble me in the 
last few weeks to make me want the society of 
sympathetic friends ?” sobbed Minna. 

“Oh, you’ve been at the KlatschS — was his 
unconcerned rejoinder. “ Was the actuary’s wife 
there to-day ?” 

“ Ye — yes — she — she — was — there ; ” gasped 
the unhappy Minna. Her worst fears were 
realized : it was one of those four lean lantern- 
posts of the actuary’s ! And the foolish fellow 
was wooing her in this princely fashion ! As if 
the minx would not have been only too glad to 
get a husband, without this superfluous gift of 
costly lace ! 

“ Are you going to see her now ?” in- 
quired Minna, her eyes following the doctor’s 


66 


The Little Countess. 


movements. He had awkwardly, but carefully, 
wrapped the lace in the white paper, and was 
bustling about the room in search of the hat he 
had forgotten to remove from his head. 

‘‘ Certainly — that is — yes. Where is that pro- 
voking hat T' was his abstracted reply, 

‘‘ Ludwig !’* — in her despair Minna caught his 
arm as he was hurrying from the room. “ Lud- 
wig, you forget that the actuary's position is 
very much beneath your own ; that he — " 

What can that signify ?" he interrupted, dis- 
covering the whereabouts of his hat, and crush- 
ing it further on his head. I dare say the 
women will know what the lace is worth. 
Besides, they are friends of yours. There — 
there ! let me go, Minna, 1 am in a hurry." 

Hysterical sobs convulsed poor Minna, while 
the subject of her grief strode briskly down the 
streets, muttering as he went : 

So far, so good ! Everything is quite satis- 
factory. Was there ever another like her? — the 
dear child ! So proud in her innocence I I can 


Return to Good Society, 


67 


yet hear her sweet tones: ^Grandmamma will 
not recover from this attack. The vow, as you 
know, dear doctor, was merely a pretext to hin- 
der poor grandmamma from going back, while 
she was so feeble, into society. I did not weave 
the lace for a church vestment — you know very 
well, dear friend, that I am not religious. I made 
it for myself ; but as I expect soon to be alone in 
the world ' — poor angel — the worthy doctor 
interrupted himself to murmur, not entirely 
alone, thank God, while / live! Yes, ‘alone in 
the world ’ — she said, drooping the golden lashes 
over her pretty eyes — ‘ and the lace will, there- 
fore, be of no use to me. Will you try to find a 
purchaser for it, doctor ? I should be so grate- 
ful 

A pause occurred in the doctor’s monologue ; 
he stopped in front of the baker’s window, and 
stared absently at the myriads of flies swarming 
against the glass inside. 

“Of course,’’ he resumed after a few moments, 
“ the dear child knew very well that I would 


68 


The Little Countess. 


understand she wanted the money for her grand- 
mother’s funeral ; but she was too proud, too 
sensitive, to say so — and she was right. Rough 
old fellow that I am, I could not have borne to 
hear her say ‘ Poverty compels me to sell this lace, 
which I made for my own adornment ’ — no, I 
could not have borne that !” 

The baker’s daughter, who had been watching 
him from the interior of the shop, now came 
closer to the window, and smiled sweetly. The 
doctor suddenly roused himself from his abstrac- 
tion, bowed awkwardly to the simpering, red- 
cheeked lass, and walked quickly toward the 
actuary’s residence. 

I must trump up some plausible story to tell 
them,” he muttered, as he approached the house. 

I’ll just say — that — hum — that — hum—” 
Good-morning, Doctor!” called the actuary’s 
wife from the garden, and, welcome ! welcome ! 
the rare guest,” chorused the quartette of 
daughters, their heads appearing alongside the 
mother’s above the garden wall. 


Return to Good Society, 


69 


When the doctor was ensconced in the most 
comfortable chair in the cosy sitting-room, he 
produced the lace, and without noticing the 
significant glances exchanged between the 
mother and her brood, asked if they happened 
to be acquainted with any person who could 
weave such lace?'’ and what did they suppose 
it was worth ?” 

The young women were skilled lace weavers, 
and, imagining that a commission might be forth- 
coming, fixed a rather exorbitant price — it was 
such an intricate pattern ! — the work would 
require such close application, and so forth. 

The doctor looked thoughtful, and wrinkled 
his brows, which signs made the lace weavers 
reconsider their decision, and observe that the 
work “ might possibly be done for a trifle less.” 

For less?” echoed the doctor, I can't under- 
stand how any one could do such exquisite work 
for so trifling a sum !” 

What a generous man ! The sisters looked at 


70 


The Little Countess. 


one another, each hoping that she might be the 
one chosen to perform the task. 

“ I should like to know,'' pursued the diplo- 
matic Esculapius, “ which of these fair ladies — 
who are so celebrated for their accomplish- 
ments ! — is the lace-maker? I am an ardent 
admirer of the beautiful art." 

The quartette blushed and remained modestly 
silent; while the mother, who was usually so 
voluble, seemed also at loss for a reply. She 
managed at last to stammer that her girls were 
equally skilled — Lenchen, she thought — ^perhaps 
— was the most expeditious worker — but — 

Without waiting for any further explanation, 
the doctor drew his chair nearer to the blushing 
Lena, and was about to speak, when : Bim — 
bim— bim !" and again Bim — bim — bim !" and 
yet a third time, the tolling of the bell on the 
funeral chapel announced the departure of a 
soul from the castle. 

‘‘ The princess," with awe-struck countenance, 
whispered the actuary's wife. 


Return to Good Society. 


71 


At the first sound of the bell, the healthy color 
forsook Doctor Grunanger's face. He started 
to his feet, thrust the lace into his pocket, and 
said in an agitated tone : 

“ I must go to her — she will need me.'' 

Without a word of farewell, and without heed- 
ing the mother's look of surprise at his puzzling 
speech — as if her highness would have further 
need of his services now ! — or Lena's disap- 
pointed face, he hurried from the house, and 
almost overturned Minna, who was awaiting him 
in the doorway of his office, 

‘‘ Is — is everything settled ?" she inquired, the 
tears starting afresh from beneath her swollen 
eyelids.^ 

Certainly ; it is only what was to be expected. 
The fateful hour comes sooner or later to every 
one," was his hurried reply as he bustled past 
her into the office. 

Then I may look about for other quarters?" 
she sobbed. 

‘‘ Look about for other quarters ?" repeated 


72 


The Little Countess, 


her brother, turning from the table, where he 
had been fumbling excitedly among some papers, 
to stare inquiringly at her. Now what sort of 
nonsense are you talking, Minna? You will 
stop here, of course, and help me take care of the 
dear child. Humph ! Look about for other 
quarters, indeed ! You will just be good to her, 
and gratify her slightest wish — zum donnerwetter ! 
— if any one dares but to look crookedly at her, 
there will be trouble 

He crushed his hat fiercely over his ears, 
dashed down the steps, and called back from the 
pavement : 

Minna ! send word to the carpenters to be 
here without fail in the morning. That room 
must be finished in three days.'* 

******* 

The old watchman was confined to his bed (he 
had been very ill since the day Doctor Grunan- 
ger had called to communicate some intelligence 
concerning Lorenz) but Liesi cared very little 


Return to Good Society. 


73 


if her feeble grandfather might want her or not; 
there was too much going on outdoors to-day. 
The long unused road to the castle was the 
scene of a hurrying to and fro the like of which 
had not been witnessed for many years. The 
villagers and neighboring farmers came in 
crowds to see the funeral of a born princess/' 
certain that the ceremony would be something 
quite out of the common. 

It was a calm, clear evening ; the sounds of 
the solemn hymn chanted by the school- 
children were borne over the valley on the 
dewy wings of the breeze. Here and there wax 
torches illumined portions of the funeral proces- 
sion, particularly the bier, which was covered by 
a heavy black velvet pall. By torchlight the 
velvet covering, with its gold-embroidered crest, 
still made a splendid enough appearance; but by 
day its threadbare and moth-eaten condition 
would have caused Monsieur Anatole to shake 
his hoary head in despair. Following the bier 
walked a black-robed figure, and hard by the 


74 


The Little Countess. 


hem of her gown, stepped Ralf, cautious and 
suspicious as ever. No flowers, no garlands, 
lent their sympathetic bloom and greenness to 
the dingy chapel. Nothing of Death's harsh- 
ness had been softened or modified. From the 
yawning crypt rose a chill, mouldy air, that 
made the women crowd more closely together 
as if for warmth and sympathy. 

The bier was placed in front of the altar. 
The Countess von Halla knelt beside it, Ralfs 
gleaming eyes peering from behind the folds of 
her veil. Against Hans George Wilbrand's 
elaborate eulogy in marble, leaned Doctor Gru- 
nanger, his honest face betraying his emotion, 
his keen glance seeking to penetrate the sombre 
shadows of Candide's veil. He saw plainly 
enough that the rude throng, crowding inquisi- 
tively into the chapel, regarded the orphaned 
countess with anything but friendliness. They 
were incensed at Ralfs presence in the chamber 
of death, and in sneering whispers commented 
on Candide’s tearless grief — Not even death 


Return to Good Society, 


75 


can humble her pride/’ was heard from more 
than one harsh-tongued matron. 

At last the prayers for the deceased were con- 
cluded ; the consecrated water was sprinkled 
over the bier, which a dense cloud of incense 
almost obscured; then a muffled sound an- 
nounced the descent of the coffin into the 
crypt. Candide shuddered, but only very 
slightly, then became again as motionless as the 
stone effigies of her ancestors. The children 
chanted a dirge; the bell tolled mournfully, 
dismally, — suddenly there arose above all other 
sounds in the chapel, a glorious human voice. 

The tones floated aloft to the vaulted ceiling ; 
soared above the helmete’d heads of the monu- 
mental heroes, wakened exquisite echoes along 
the arched windows, then descended gentl}^ 
caressingly, to the kneeling countess, whose head, 
at the first notes of the beautiful requiem, had 
fallen forward on her clasped hands. The pall- 
bearers now appeared from the crypt, the stone 
was replaced over the mouth, a final prayer, and 


The Little Countess, 


76 

there was no further excuse for the curious 
crowd to linger in the chapel. 

Doctor Grunanger even sought to hasten their 
departure by laying his hand on the door, as if to 
indicate that he was waiting to close it. And 
Ralf, too, was anxious to be alone ; he perched 
himself on a marble bust near his mistress, and 
with arched spine and ruffled fur, cast hostile 
glances at the retreating crowd. As the door 
closed behind them, Ralfs defiant attitude sud- 
denly underwent a transformation ; with a glad 
mew, he glided from his perch, and along the 
floor to the feet of a young man who had 
modestly lingered behind the crowd, and was 
now approaching the countess. He was a dark- 
faced, strong-limbed youth, almost handsome, 
with a certain swarthy beauty ; with the secure, 
if not elegantj bearing, and fearless glance of the 
unspoiled child of nature. He came slowly, 
diffidently forward, and kneeling beside the 
countess, deferentially lifted one of her hands in 
both his own, and kissed it. 


Rehirn to Good Society. 


77 


Without moving, or lifting her head, Candide 
murmured : 

When I heard your voice, Renzi, my strength 
deserted me. I have watched so many nights — 
I have had so much to try me — '' 

“Yes, yes, poor child! so you have,” here 
interposed Doctor Grunanger’s fatherly tones. 
“ And now you must obey your ph3^sician and 
go home and rest.” 

“Home? Rest?” echoed Candide, starting 
up, and flinging back the veil from her pallid 
face, and dry, burning eyes. “ I can’t — I can’t 
go back to that dreary ruin, where they have 
locked and sealed every door and closet, as if the 
last drop of Halla blood were chilled in death. 
No, no, let me stay here with my fathers — this is 
the only refuge left to me.” 

With a touch as gentle as a woman’s, Lorenz 
removed the heavy veil from her bowed head, 
and in a low, soothing voice, said : 

“Try to pray, little Countess; prayer will 
calm the heart when all else fails.” 


78 


The Little Countess, 


An impatient gesture shook her hair over her 
temples : 

‘‘ I can’t pray, Lorenz ; I don’t know how — I 
never learned ! I am the same Candide as of 
old ; sorrow, anger, trouble — nothing can pene- 
trate the armor of indifference which envelops 
my heart. I have wished, oh ! how often, that I 
might become like other people ; but I remain 
the same — I am a Halla ! I was never taught to 
be anything different. My race is torn up by 
the roots. What can it signify if a last remaining 
branch wilts, and dies alone, forgotten by all the 
world ? Go, go, friends, leave me,” — waving 
her hands toward the door. ‘‘ Go with the rest, 
and leave me here with my own. I thank you, 
Doctor — and you, Renzi — go — go — ” 

My dear child,” remonstrated the doctor, 
his voice trembling with emotion. “ I am your 
physician, and you must listen to me. I do not 
ask impossibilities. I only ask you to lay your 
little cold hand on your old friend’s arm and to 
come with him to his plain, quiet home, where 


Return to Good Society, 


79 


you will be a welcome and honored guest until 
the doors of the castle are again open to you.’' 

Candide looked up into the kindly face bend- 
ing over her, looked steadily into his honest 
eyes, then with a sudden movement, flung her 
arms around his neck and buried her face on his 
shoulder. 

“ Oh ! you are good,” she murmured. ‘‘ I 
accept your generous hospitality — I will remain 
with you, my kind friend, until Wilbrand comes. 
He will come very soon, for I have sent him 
word of our grandmother’s death.” 

When the actuary’s wife and her girls quitted 
the chapel, they turned their steps toward the 
Grunanger residence. They were curious to 
know what had prevented Minna, who was 
usually the first to appear at a funeral, from 
attending so unusually interesting a ceremony as 
the entombment of a princess. 

A nervous cry burst from Minna when she 
opened the door in answer to their ring, and 


8o 


The Little Countess. 


beheld Frau Schindler and her four daughters. 
Before the mother could open her lips, the 
doctor’s sister stepped back from the threshold, 
and with an elaborate flourish waved her hand 
toward the dining-room. 

Everything is ready,” she announced in her 
most ceremonious tone. You are welcome, of 
course ; but you must excuse me if 1 failed to 
understand Ludwig — he didn’t say how many of 
you were coming to supper.” 

‘‘To supper?” echoed the wondering Frau 
Schindler, while her daughters looked inquir- 
ingly at one another. “We didn’t know you 
were expecting us to supper.” 

“ I — he — Ludwig,” gasped the unhappy 
Minna, turning abruptly and fleeing into the 
kitchen. Not for the world would she have 
allowed her pride to forsake her at this supreme 
moment of her trial! It was with a feeling of 
mingled triumph and misery that the spinster 
added four covers to those already laid on the 
tempting supper table — those actuary people 


Return to Good Society, 


should see that Minna Grunanger knew what 
was the proper thing to do on such an occasion ! 

At this juncture the bell rang a second time ; 
but before Minna could get to the door, it was 
opened by her brother, who entered the hall, 
exclaiming, in a triumphant tone: 

Ho, Minna ! sister ! here is our honored 
guest — 1 hope you have a fitting supper for 
the Countess von Halla;’' he added proudly, 
conducting the black-robed countess to the 
most comfortable chair in the cosy parlor. 

For a moment Minna was dumb, but only 
for a moment ; then the sudden revulsion of 
feeling made her as voluble as she had been 
speechless: 

‘‘Welcome! welcome! A thousand times 
welcome. Countess von Halla !” she cried. 
“ This is indeed a joyful surprise, a day of 
gladness for us all !” 

Her relief from the terrible load which bad 
been weighing down her heart for so many days, 
made her forget the sorrowful occurrence which 


82 


The Little Countess, 


had brought the countess a guest under her 
roof. But what mattered anything now ? She 
lived — breathed once more ! and those actuary 
people” must have heard all — as indeed they 
had. They came fluttering from the dining- 
room, and, expressing their unwillingness longer 
to intrude now that so distinguished a visitor 
was come,” hurriedly departed. 

With their departure, the names of the Schind- 
ler family were erased from Countess Halla*s 
already meagre list of well-wishers. 




CHAPTER V. 

THE LEGACY. 

Candide’s letter was almost a fortnight old 
when it reached her cousin at Ostend. It bore 
various postmarks, and read as follows : 

“ Dear Wilbrand : 

‘‘ Grandmamma died peacefully three days 
ago, and will be entombed this evening. In 
her last will she desires that her property be 
equally divided between her two grandchildren. 
I have had all the doors and closets at the castle 
locked and sealed, and they will remain so until 
you arrive. I hope that enough may be found 
to secure to Anatole and Doris a comfortable 
living. I have accepted the hospitality of our 



84 


The Little Countess, 


physician, Doctor Grunanger, and shall remain 
at his house until you come. These people live 
very comfortably. 

Your cousin, 

''Candide von Halla.” 

Count Wilbrand crumpled the letter in his 
hand, flung it on the table, and paced the floor 
with rapid strides. His agitation might have 
been attributed to grief for his grandmother, 
had not his muttered words proved the con- 
trary : 

It is perfect folly to expect me to travel to 
Hohneck merely to be present at the division of 
nothing ! What ridiculous conscientiousness ! 
to lock and seal the doors of her own house, and 
to stop with strangers.'* 

Suddenly a brilliant idea occurred to him. 
He halted beside the table, picked up the letter 
and smiled as he smoothed out the creases with 
his long, shapely fingers. 

‘‘A capital idea !" he exclaimed, fumbling for 


The Legacy, 


85 


a pencil in his waistcoat pockets ; ‘‘ a capital 
idea! The old lady’s death will, after all, be of 
some use to me.” 

The following morning there appeared in the 
most prominent newspapers published at Ostend, 
this imposing obituary : 

It is with extreme sorrow that we chronicle 
the death, at the age of ninety-seven, of Her 
Highness, the Princess Eleanore Susanna von 
D — , widowed Countess von Halla. The re- 
mains of the venerable and distinguished lady 
were entombed on the fifth inst. in the crypt of 
the funeral chapel on the ancestral estate of the 
Counts von Halla at Hohneck. The two grand- 
children of Her Highness are hur heirs ; they 
are Count Wilbrand and Countess Candide von 
Halla.” 

That same morning a vacant chair at the table 
d'hote of the most fashionable hotel at Ostend, 
attracted the attention of more than one pair of 
bright eyes. The owner of one pair, a gor- 


86 


The Little Countess, 


geously attired lady in the immediate neighbor- 
hood of the vacant seat, after several glances 
toward it, remarked to her vis-a-visy an army 
officer on the pension list : 

‘‘Have you heard the sad news. General? 
Count von Halla’s grandmother — a born princess 
— is dead/* 

The general, who disliked to be interrupted 
while enjoying his dinner, answered with a 
growl that would have done credit to an angry 
mastiff. 

Finding that the decease of a “ born princess ” 
had no interest for the doughty warrior, the 
lady’s coal black eyes went in quest of another 
victim, and found one in the person of a younger 
woman than herself, who sat two chairs distant. 
This young person was called Miss Mary Kopp; 
but her appearance would certainly warrant any 
one thinking her a rosy-cheeked lad with a pert 
snub nose, and inquisitive eyes. Moreover, her 
brown hair was cropped close in boy-fashion, 


The Legacy, 


8 / 


while her collar, cravat and jacket, gave her a 
decidedly masculine appearance. 

Miss Kopp,'' began the widow, leaning for- 
ward over her plate to look toward the young 
lady, ‘‘has our friend the Count gone away?'' 

Miss Kopp, who was an American, and 
enjoyed the distinction of being “emancipated," 
allowed a considerable pause to intervene before 
she replied in her crisp, curt accents: 

“ Not yet." 

“ But he is going?" persisted the widow. 

“ Of course," in the same tone returned the fair 
American, filling her wine glass to the brim. 

A baffled smile played around the widow’s full 
red lips ; she sat upright, and with angelic 
patience listened to the platitudes of the French 
dandy who sat on her right. 

Frau Bertha Inger accepted the attentions of 
this fop — who coveted the amiable widow’s fif- 
teen thousand a year — as a matter of course. 
She thought it but natural that man, individually 
and collectively, should render homage to her 


88 


The Little Countess. 


bank account. She was accustomed to an envi- 
ronment of worshipers of all sorts and condi- 
tions ; and would, with the utmost naivete^ dis- 
cuss her own attractions with her less favored 
acquaintances. 

But thirteen years of wedded discomfort had 
made the fair Bertha exceedingly wary ; she 
was not willing a second lime to launch upon a 
matrimonial venture unless it offered the advan- 
tages she had failed to secure in her first. Con- 
sequently her smiles were alike sweet to each 
and every one of her suitors ; she dispensed to 
all alike the glances which, though gracious and 
alluring, were not serious ; and continued to 
dazzle with her brilliant and costly toilets the 
admiring world at Ostend. 

The elderly and hypochondriac Herr Inger, 
imagining that his youthful spouse felicitated 
herself upon a sometime widowhood and its 
attendant dowry, had managed to inflict on her 
all manner of torture. He had never rejoiced in 
the possession of good health and a serene tern- 


The Legacy, 


89 


per, consequently his disposition was by no 
means improved when, soon after his marriage, 
gout and indigestion laid their hold upon him. 

« 

Nor did a violent, but totally unfounded jeal- 
ousy, tend to soften his peevishness. 

On ten successive New Years, Adolf Inger's 
physicians had feared that the generous yearly 
fee from their wealthy patient might be the last. 
The amiable and dutiful Frau Inger had not 
exactly feared ’’ that dissolution was near her 
lord ; neither could the sentiment with which 
she regarded the approaching event have been 
called hope. At last, when all his acquaintances 
had concluded that Herr Inger had a perpetual 
lease of life, he died. His widow dutifully shed 
a few tears on his grave ; then locked herself in 
her dressing-room, and spent a full hour in front 
of her mirror. The inspection proved satisfac- 
tory. She had a good figure ; a few months by 
the sea would restore her color, and Paris — 
Paris ! would accomplish the rest. She secured 
the services of a French maid for whose judg- 


90 


The Little Countess, 


ment she cherished the most unbounded respect. 
In due time Frau Bertha emerged from the 

shadows of crape and bombazine, and had 

» 

adopted silk and lace just before her advent at 
Ostend. 

A certain friendly rivalry existed between Miss 
Kopp and Frau Inger. Although her toilets 
were of the simplest, Miss Kopp was said to be 
the wealthier; but the smiles with which she 
received the homage of her admirers were by 
no means so gracious and good-natured as those 
bestowed by the fair widow. A wicked tongue 
had Miss Kopp, and scornful. Now and then 
rumor whispered that she dabbled in litera- 
ture,” wrote emancipated ” articles lor the 
press. But the most conspicuous of all her pecul- 
iar attributes, were her sable atcendants, an old 
negress, whose son, a herculean fellow, filled the 
office of groom ; while a second ebon follower, a 
lad of neat proportions, as ‘‘ tiger ” was always 
to be seen with his mistress when she drove out 
in her carriage with the long-tailed Arabian 


The Legacy. 


91 


ponies. Drive’' is a mild term to describe the 
lightning speed with which Miss Kopp’s equipage 
flew along the public highways. 

An untoward Fate so willed that the fair Ameri- 
can and Frau Inger should both be attracted by 
the same magnet — Count Wilbrand von Halla 
The Count, who had accompanied an opulent 
invalid to Ostend, rode races with the modern 

Brunhild — as he designed Miss Kopp — shot at 
\ 

mark with her, fenced, boxed, rode, sailed — 
indeed some envious tongues whispered of a 
proposed swimming match between the two. 
Whether Count Halla won courteously, or gal- 
lantly accepted defeat, his manner never lost one 
jot of that superiority which indicates a tender 
compassion for the weaker sex — a manner that 
exasperated his fair opponent more than she 
cared to admit. 

One day after the count had been more devoted 
than usual to the widow, Miss Kopp in her sneer- 
ing tone remarked : 

“What a silly creature Frau Inger is! Can 


92 


The Little Countess. 


anything be more nauseating than that lacka- 
daisical air of hers ! A perambulating fashion- 
plate ! A soulless puppet ! Tell her that her 
conversation is as vulgar as her head-dress, and 
she will retort : ‘ Beg pardon, my love, but this 
coiffure is the very latest style — an exact copy 
of an illustration in number thirty-two of such 
and such fashion bulletin — Pah V* 

Wilbrand laughed — he could laugh frankly^ 
musically as few men. 

Do you know,'' he rejoined, I really admire 
these so-called simple natures. Man adores what 
is yet to be formed rather than that which has 
been moulded without his aid. The fascinating 
mystery of the bud is a thousand times more 
alluring than the most seductive blossom that 
has come to perfection." 

Do you refer to Frau Inger when speaking 
of buds ?" ironically interrogated Miss Kopp. 

No with a sudden soberness replied the 
count, passing his fingers through his curls. I 
was thinking of a German girl. However," he 


The Legacy, 


93 


added in a laughing tone, ^‘gorgeous foliage 
plants, like our friend yonder, are very effective 
as ornaments. With a women of that order a 
man would find the peace he covets ; her mental 
defects entertain rather than annoy — all tints 
blend with her chiaro-osctiro^ all is harmony, 
nothing clashes. In a word, with such a wife 
one would find that comfortable chez soi which is 
so quieting to the nerves.” 

On the other hand, when he was in Frau 
Inger's society, the gallant count was loud in 
his praise of the American girl's *^rare muscular 
power,” her extraordinary physical and mental 
acquirements,” her courage, which was that of 
an Amazon queen,” — and more of the same 
character, all of which the simple minded Frau 
Bertha would repeat to her rival at the first 
opportunity. 

While Miss Kopp with her curt sentences was 
trying to convince the widow that she was aware 
of Count Halla's movements — when in reality 
she knew no more about him than Frau Bertha 


94 


The Little Countess. 


herself — that bereaved gentleman was reclining 
indolently on a sofa in the office of the most 
fashionable tailor at Ostend. 

To-morrow morning/' he was saying, I shall 
expect you to send the mourning suit without 
fail, as I must pay a few visits before leaving for 
my estate at Hohneck. The rest of the things 
you can finish by the last of the week — I shall 
telegraph you where to send them in case I do 
not return here. About the bill, you — " 

‘‘ Oh ! — Herr Count," hastily but obsequiously 
interposed the tailor, ‘‘ we are too deeply 
indebted to the Herr Count for his distinguished 
patronage — " 

The devil you are !" with a 7ionchalant 
laugh, interrupted the Herr Count." Whom 
do you take me to be, eh ?" 

“ The maitre tailleur humbly rubbed his palms 
together and smiled knowingly upon his aristo- 
cratic customer. Yes, he knew, this knight of 
the shears knew very well, that Count Halla's 
patronage could damage as well as benefit his 


The Legacy, 


95 


establishment. He knew very well that the 
Herr Count never paid in cash for his cigars, 
his gloves, perfumes, and the hundred and one 
elegant trifles necessary to the comfort of a 
modern man of the world. He knew that Count 
Halla's favor far out-weighed many another 
man’s dollars; that it would bring customers to 
whom the costly wares would not be too high 
priced, because they were recommended by 
“ that elegant Count Halla.” But enough ; the 
tailor knew very well that Count Halla would 
never pay his bill — notwithstanding the rumors 
about the wonderful family estates,” the 
“ princely inheritance,” and so on ; and yet this 
self-same tailor could not find time to serve cer- 
tain other of his customers because Count 
Halla had ordered several suits of mourning, 
which must be finished immediately. His 
grandmother, the Princess D — , immensely rich, 
you know, is dead. Some men are so lucky ! no 
end of money and property — but then, one ought 
not to grudge the Count’s good fortune, he’s 


96 


The Little Countess, 


such a fine fellow — he s no niggard with his 
orders, let me tell you !'* 

With patience Candide awaited the coming of 
her cousin ; and while thus waiting she never 
dreamed of the elaborate preparations he was 
making for his journey to Hohneck. 

Although she was very comfortable in the 
newly furnished parlor, with the fountain splash- 
ing and gurgling just outside the door, she soon 
grew tired of the place, and longed to return to 
the dingy ruin on the hill-top. Minna’s welcome 
had been effusively friendly ; but it had been 
merely an outburst of nervous excitement. Con- 
sequently, after the first day, when the novelty of 
having the Countess under her roof had worn off, 
and when she had been convinced that her 
brother did not intend to marry one of those 
lantern-posts’^ of the actuary’s, the spinster’s 
manner began to change ; she began to find fault 
with her guest. The countess’ reserve irritated 
her — ‘‘just as if I, Minna Grunanger, Ludwig 





The Legacy, 


97 


Grunanger’s own sister, were not good enough 
for this beggar princess to talk with she 
exclaimed to a sympathetic friend. 

Matters grew worse and worse. The doctor 
had arranged a requiem mass for the deceased 
princess, and what do you suppose happened ? 
Countess H|)la refused to attend the ceremony, 
giving as her reason that she did not wish to be 
stared at by the entire neighborhood ! She pre- 
ferred to pray out in the silent forest for her 
grandmamma, who surely did not need the 
prayers of all these strangers ! was ever such 
impiety heard of? 

The doctor, who agreed with the countess in 
all things, or — to quote the irate Minna — who 
always yielded to the haughty minx like the 
blind old bat that he was !’' had gone to visit 
his patients in the country ; so Minna, who had 
been utterly routed in her tilt with the rebellious 
countess, was at liberty to seek for consolation 
and advice. She flung on her bonnet and 
shawl, and hastened to the residence of the 


98 


The Little Countess, 


apothecary, where her reception was anything 
but flattering. 

'‘We supposed,'' said the mother, with glacial 
dignity, " that we would not be good enough 
for you now that a countess condescends to look 
favorably on your brother. I dare say, how- 
ever, that she was glad enough to take him, 
after she had been driven by her creditors from 
that old rookery on the hill. Oh, you see we 
know all about it!" she added in reply to 
Minna's look of bewilderment. " The actuary, 
who was at the castle when everything was 
locked up, told us all about it." 

A cold chill seized Minna. How she regretted 
her foolish pride, her treatment of the actuary’s 
wife and daughters — her own friends, too ! And 
now — Countess Halla, that red-haired, insolent 
minx, her sister-in-law ! 

" It will be my death !" she groaned. 

But the apothecary's spouse merely shrugged 
her shoulders, and remarked : 

" You will get used to it. Your brother, whose 


The Legacy. 


99 


tastes have become so aristocratic, will not 
grudge the money to keep up your present 
mode of living.’' 

Meanwhile the worthy doctor, ignorant of the 
storm clouds that were gathering above his 
peaceful home, jogged contentedly up hill and 
down ; to remote huts in the charcoal district ; 
to stately villas along the mountain side. 
Towards five o’clock he returned home, hungry 
as a wolf. There was no one at the door to 
greet him. He sent Seppel to the stable, and 
made his way into the kitchen, which he found 
deserted and cold. 

Tm glad Minna didn’t keep the child wait- 
ing for her supper,” he mused, walking toward 
the parlor, which was likewise unoccupied. He 
called aloud to the maid, who appeared from a 
remote corner above stairs, and sent her to give 
Seppel his oats. At last, in the garden beside 
the fountain, he beheld a dark-robed form. 

I am late to-day,” he began in an apologetic 


lOO 


The Little Countess. 


tone, as she turned slowly toward him. ‘‘And 
you were right not to wait supper for me — ’’ 

Something in Candide's face, which was paler 
than usual, made him pause and scrutinize her 
closely. 

“We have not supped,'' returned the countess, 
endeavoring not to appear embarrassed. “ I 
offended Fraulein Grunanger by refusing to 
attend the mass ; and some gossip she heard 
from a friend increased her annoyance. I have 
thanked her for her hospitality, and was only 
waiting to say good-bye to you. I am going 
away from the house whose peace I have 
destroyed." 

“ Whose peace you have destroyed !" repeated 
the doctor in a perplexed tone. “ What do you 
mean? Where in heaven's name will you go? 
My dear child, you can’t go back to the castle 
until Count Halla arrives." 

“ I thought perhaps Liesi, watchman’s Liesi, 
would give me shelter until — " 

“ But Lorenz is there," interrupted the doctor. 


The Legacy. 


lOI 


Candide passed her hand across her eyes : 

True — I had forgotten she murmured 
wearily. Well, I — I can stay somewhere — in 
the forest — Fm not afraid.’' 

To RalFs dismay, the doctor turned abruptly, 
and walked three times around the basin of the 
fountain before he spoke again. Then, stopping 
in front of the countess, and taking her cold, 
nerveless fingers in his strong, warm clasp, he 
asked : 

'‘Tell me what these women have been say- 
ing?” 

“ It was only natural they should think so,” 
answered Candide, evading his keen glance by 
dropping her eyes to her lap. “ It was only 
natural they should suppose that a beggar like 
me could have but one object in accepting the 
hospitality of this comfortable house. They say 
I — that I — am trying to — to attract you — that 
I — I want to — want to — marry you !” 

How much pain, how much exquisite torture, 


102 


The Little Countess, 


the words caused her, the doctor would never 
know — he seemed stunned — paralyzed. 

Want to — want to — '' he gasped, struggling 
for breath. 

I assure you,'' Candide protested in an earn- 
est voice, dear, kind friend, do believe me ; such 
a thought never entered my head. I could not 
so abuse your kindness — it would be too mean, 
too contemptible !" 

Abuse my kindness !" repeated the doctor, 
his speech suddenly returning. '' Abuse m}^ 
kindness ! Great Heaven ! Candide, could a 
plain, rough old fellow like myself hope for 
greater happiness than to win you ?" 

For an instant the young countess, from whose 
face every vestige of color had faded, looked 
with frightened eyes at the excited speaker ; then 
she bent her head until the golden hair veiled 
her face, and murmured : 

I did not dream of this." 

Of course you did not !" rejoinea the doc- 
tor, with less ’excitement, of course you did 


The Legacy, 1 03 

not ; and if 1 have dreamed it, it was only a fair, 
beautiful vision that would rise at times before 
me. Yes, dear child, I have thought of it; but 
the question which is to decide my future happi- 
ness would not have been asked while you were 
a guest beneath my roof — not in the first weeks 
of your mourning, had not this unfortunate gos- 
sip revealed my secret. Now that you know it, 
dear child, 1 want you to think about it ; consider 
my proposal well. For days, weeks — months, 
if you wish ; and don’t be afraid to say ^ no ’ 
if you find that you cannot become my wife. 1 
have but one favor to beg of you ; do not quit 
the shelter of my roof; don’t withdraw from 
my guardianship — don’t, pray don’t cease to 
think of me as an honorable man — a true friend, 
notwithstanding the cruel insult you have 
received in my house ; and now, dear child, 
remember always, that idle gossip cannot injure 
Candide von Halla, nor can it in any way affect 
her friend Ludwig Grunanger.” 

Oh !” she sobbed, the long breath relieving 



104 


The Little Cotmtess. 


her breast of its heavy weight, will never 

misunderstand me.” 

Never ! my dear child. I understand your 
case perfectly, and ” — here the genial smile 
returned to his rugged features — “ I am rather 
proud of my diagnosis.” Candide made no 
reply ; but bending her head, lightly touched 
her lips to the doctor's hand. 

Now Minna, as might be surmised, had wit- 
nessed, from her concealment behind the win- 
dow-curtain, the scene at the fountain ; and when 
her brother returned to the house, she was fully 
prepared for the scolding she felt she deserved 
for her inhospitable treatment of their guest. 
What was her surprise, therefore, when Ludwig 
merely shook his head, and said in a tone that 
went to her heart : 

Minna, Minna ! for twenty years you have 
given me the truest, the most devoted affection : 
but the wound you have inflicted on me to-day 
is more cruel than words can express.” 

Minna was not an iron post ; but a human 


The Legacy, 


105 


being with a heart, and this reproachful speech 
brought to her eyes a flood of repentant tears. 

Only when Candide put her arms around the 
spinster’s quivering form, and kissed her hot 
cheek, was the convulsive sobbing checked, and 
the storm of grief sufficiently calmed to allow 
thoughts of the neglected supper, preparations 
for which were at once begun, and with an 
ardor which promised to load the table with all 
that the larder contained. 

Half way up the steep hill, on the summit of 
which stood Hohneck Castle, there was a broad 
terrace that in olden times had been a parade for 
the garrison at the castle. Later it had been 
transformed to a pleasure garden; and still later, 
and finally, the one time tilt-yard could boast of 
but a vegetable bed or two, and numerous jun- 
gles of rank weeds. Whatever had taken root 
there grew and flourished according to a fancy 
of its own, especially the yew hedge, which had 
developed a luxuriance that made ample amends 


The Little Countess, 


io6 

for the severe clipping it had received in its 
youth. Several plane trees, too, had attained a 
lofty height. Near them towered a vigorous 
oak ; and hard by the furthest look-out three 
sturdy beeches spread their verdant canopies, so 
that this natural balcony was shaded throughout 
the entire summer as effectually as if protected 
by a canvas awning. A sort of gallery rose 
steeply from the terrace to the cliff above the 
chapel, where had once stood a strong watch- 
tower; now, however, the gallery ended abruptly 
on the verge of the precipice, and no trace of the 
watch-tower remained. 

On this dizzy height, in the clear morning sun- 
shine, stood Candide and Ralf, looking down into 
the watchman’s garden, where Lorenz was at 
work among the vegetable beds. For a long 
time the young man worked diligently without 
pausing; but Ralf’s delicate mewing at last 
caught his ear. He stopped, leaned on his spade, 
and looked up at the girl’s figure outlined 
against the sky on the very edge of the cliff. 


The Legacy, 


107 


She waved her hand to him with a beckoning 
motion, then began to descend the almost pre- 
cipitous gallery. It was a path that could be 
traversed with safety only by persons to whom 
dizziness was unknown, or by the sure-footed 
beasts of prey ; but Lorenz knew very well that 
no danger threatened the little countess — ’’ 
his boyhood's playmate, whose step was secure 
as that of her feline companion. 

The young man, after watching her for a 
minute or two, sprang up the declivity, along the 
goat-path to the beeches, where he arrived at the 
same moment the countess made her appearance. 
She nodded in a friendly manner, and seated 
herself on the back of a sandstone dolphin, from 
whose wide jaws a copious stream of water had 
once descended into the gigantic conch-shell 
which now served as a shelter for a colony of 
dainty ferns and lichens. Lorenz balanced him- 
self on the edge of the shell ; his cheeks were 
flushed with the climb up the hill; his eyes 
gleamed with youthful vigor — Candide thought. 


io8 


The Little Co7mtess, 


as she looked at him, that she had never seen him 
so handsome as at this moment. 

‘‘ Renzi,'' she began, I want to thank you for 
that beautiful hymn. When I heard it, and 
recognized your voice, I felt as if one ray of 
light fell on the darkness which enshrouded my 
soul.'’ 

And I — Heaven help me ! — could do nothing 
for you but sing," returned Lorenz in a trembling 
voice. 

Don't trouble about me, Renzi," she said in 
almost a motherly tone, I am able to take care 
of, and keep myself — " 

‘‘ Oh ! — little countess — " with childlike earn- 
estness interposed the young man, no one is 
able to help himself, no one ! God alone is our 
helper — He alone can help us, and you — you 
don't love him as you ought, little countess." 

What a pity you could not study for the 
ministry, Renzi," with veiled sarcasm, rejoined 
the countess. 

“ It is my dearest wish, but — " he reddened — 


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109 


“ we can’t afford it. I could manage it were I 
alone in the world, but you know grandfather 
and Liesi and me. When our regiment was at 
the Residenz, my voice attracted the attention 
of some musical people, who offered to educate 
me for the stage — they imagined I might 
become a great singer — and I did take a few 
lessons just to please them. The director of the 
opera wrote to Doctor Grunanger about me ; 
and the doctor tried to persuade grandfather to 
let me study music; but the old man opposed 
the project ; he said he couldn’t wait until I 
should win a reputation, and be able to make 
money, that he might starve before that time. 
Please, little countess, don’t imagine that I am 
complaining of my lot. 1 am not, for I know 
that whatever happens is God’s will, and for the 
best. I am very sorry anything was said to 
grandfather, because he has been ill ever since — 
and after all,” he added with an unconscious 
sigh, why should I have aspired to become 
more than my forefathers.” 


I lO 


The Little Countess. 


‘‘ Why T' echoed Candide, with flashing eyes. 

“ Because you are different from them ; because 
you have a talent that they never possessed ; 
because your mind elevates 3’ou above your 
kind ! Don't you feel that you are gifted, Renzi ? 
that you are different? No, no, that old man 
must not demand such a sacrifice of you." 

Lorenz smiled sadly. Grandfather does not . 
‘ demand the sacrifice,' as you call it, little 
countess. I am only doing my duty in ^delding 
submissively to a greater will than his. God 
only knows how hard it was at first, but I did 
not hesitate to choose what was right." 

‘‘ How very good you are !" half ironically, 
half admiringly, observed Candide. What a 
deal of self denial you must practice !" 

am not the one who is self-denying," 
quickly responded Lorenz. It is not I, but you, 
little countess, who can shine as an example of 
real self-denial. Why, whenever I need encour- 
agement, I have only to think of you." 


The Legacy, 


1 1 1 


Candide looked at him with a strange expres- 
sion in her eyes. 

« Forgive me, little countess,” Lorenz hastened 
to add timidly, venturing to take her hand. 

Forgive me, and don't be afraid I shall ever 
take advantage of your secret.” 

Candide slid from the dolphin's back to the 
grassy turf, paced several times along the crum- 
bling parapet, then halting abruptly in front of 
Lorenz, and said : 

‘‘ I beckoned to you, Renzi, because 1 wanted 
to thank you for singing that beautiful requiem, 
and to ask you a question concerning my grand- 
mamma, the princess.” 

Lorenz suddenly straightened himself, and 
fixed his honest brown eyes in wonder on her 
face. What had caused this sudden change in 
her manner ? Did she wish to remind him of 
the great difference between herself, the grand- 
daughter of a princess, and the grandson of a 
humble watchman ? 

Your grandmother*, I believe,” resumed the 


I 12 


The Little Countess, 


countess, ‘‘ used to relate marvelous stories 
about the doings at the castle, and tell you about 
the jewels and precious stones which belonged 
to her former mistress, the princess ?” 

“ Yes, very often, and her wonderful tales 
about the magnificence up at the castle would 
make me and Liesi dream of things that ought 
never to have entered the heads of poor 
children/' 

Candide shook back her mane of golden hair, 
and pondered a moment before asking again : 

‘‘ Did your grandmother ever mention any- 
thing about — about the jewels having been 
sold 

'' I don't think grandmother knew anything 
about it," replied Lorenz, after deliberating an 
instant, ‘‘indeed I think if she had known that 
they were sold, she would have lamented the 
harsh necessity which compelled her revered 
mistress to part with the beautiful gems. In my 
grandmother's opinion, the princess was ever a 


very wealthy lady, who did not care to adorn 
herself after the death of her husband/' 

‘‘Then I am sure — " an approaching foot-step 
made Candida hesitate, and look expectantly in 
the direction of the sound. Ralf must have 
recognized the new-comer, for while he was yet 
unseen, the cat arched his back in defiance, 
and with gleaming eyes placed himself in front 
of his mistress. The next instant Count Halla 
came into view. His handsome face darkened 
with a frown when his glance fell on the group 
beside the stone dolphin. 

“ I regret that drawing is not one of my 
accomplishments," he exclaimed, with a sneer- 
ing smile, as became nearer. Were I a painter, 
I should certainly immortalize so romantic a 
scene — I beg pardon for disturbing your inter- 
esting tete-a4ete^ Countess Halla, but the actuary 
is gone up to the castle, and will require your 
presence. May I offer my arm ?" with mocking 
courtesy, extending his arm toward her. 


The Little Countess. 


IT4 


'' Thanks,” quietly returned the countess. I 
do not need any support. I am not feeble.” 

Wilbrand’s face flushed as she passed him 
and lightly ascended the path. Instead of fol- 
lowing immediately, he turned to Lorenz and 
said carelessly : 

'‘Well, Renzi, my good fellow, how does the 
world use you ?” 

" Thank you, Herr Count, I am very well 
satisfied. I have succeeded my grandfather, 
and am now the watchman.” 

"Ah ?” drawled the count turning toward the 
path, " that is wise ; be sure always to be satis- 
fied with your place, and you will not get into 
trouble.” 

There was a significance in his words and 
tone that Lorenz might easily have understood. 
When Wilbrand came up with his cousin she 
had already overtaken the actuary, and the three 
walked together through the neglected garden 
to the castle. 

When the ceremony of breaking the seals, and 


The Legacy, 


115 

unlocking the doors was concluded, the coun- 
tess said to Herr Schindler : 

As Count Wilbrand and I are the sole lega- 
tees, and as it is not at all likely that we shall 
disagree about dividing the legacy, I see no 
further use for your services. I, for my part, 
now declare myself willing to abide by what- 
ever decision my cousin may see fit to make — 
Perhaps we may differ as to the value of the 
property,'* interrupted Wilbrand, with a mean- 
ing glance. 

“ Possibly," coldly replied his cousin. In 
such an event I shall of course yield to your 
superior judgment." 

The count's reply was a ceremonious bow ; 
then he opened the door for Herr Schindler, 
whose reluctance to depart was plainly visible. 
Ever since the princess' death, the little man of 
law had looked forward with keen expectation to 
this hour — the noble farce," as he wittily spoke 
of the division of the Halla legacy — and now, 
after all his anticipations, he was not to have 


The Little Countess, 


1 16 

the gratification of witnessing the discomforture 
of his aristocratic clients ! 

As the door closed behind him, Wilbrand 
flung himself into a chair, exclaiming : 

“ What a finished actress you are, cousin ! 
We Hallas possess dramatic talent it nothing else. 
One would have thought from your manner 
toward that poor little lawyer, that there was 
really something to divide. Well,” leaning 
indolently back in his chair — “ which of us is to 
become the happy owner of grandmamma’s pow- 
der-puff ?” 

Without replying, Candide turned to an elabor- 
ate wall-cabinet, and begun a search of its vari- 
ous compartments. 

“ Confounded good-looking chap that Lorenz 
Marten,” resumed Wilbrand, crossing his knees 
and glancing complacently at his well-fitting 
boot. “ And, Liesa, his sister, is quite pretty 
enough to kiss.” 

An impatient exclamation from the wall-cabi- 


The Legacy. 


117 

net interrupted him. After a moment's pause 
he spoke again : 

“ Well ? Can't you unearth the treasure ?" he 
asked in a mocking tone. 

A sharp report, like the splitting of a board 
answered his question — the next instant he was 
beside his cousin, his amazement rendering him, 
for once, speechless. 

There lay the glittering heap : gem upon gem, 
diamonds, priceless pearls, rubies — the cele- 
brated Halla jewels accumulated through cen- 
turies. Wilbrand's hand trembled as he lifted a 
sparkling diadem and held it toward the light. 

“ Genuine — every stone a fortune !" he gasped ; 
then suddenly tossing it back on the heap, he 
turned with a jubilant cry to Candide, caught 
her in his powerful arms, and lifted her, as if she 
were a mere child, above his head. 

“Well, Didi,*’ he asked, looking up at her; 
“ what now ?" 

“We will divide," was the response, as he 
returned her struggling form to the floor. 


ii8 


The Little Countess. 


Two-thirds of the jewels for you/' she con- 
tinned ; ‘‘ the remaining third, and undisputed 
possession of the castle so long as I live, for me. 
1 shall of course assume the care of Anatole and 
Doris, who are too old to work any more." 

‘‘ By heaven ! Didi, you are an angel. No one 
but you would think of troubling with those two 
mummies. Well, you may consider your deci- 
sion perfectly satisfactory so far as I am con- 
cerned ; but you must let me pay all the expenses 
of grandmamma's funeral." 

“ Everything is already paid," quietly rejoined 
Candide. 

“ Paid ? By whom ?" 

“ Doctor Grunanger sold a piece of lace I 
wove to one of his wealthy patients." 

“ What an adorable girl you are, Didi ! Well, 
there is the doctor's bill, and the apothecary's — " 

“ The latter is paid — it was only a trifle. As 
for the doctor's bill, I could not think of — of — 
offering money to my old friend." 


The Legacy. 


119 

“ What nonsense, Didi ! Not offer money to 
a physician ? Absurd 

‘^Doctor Grunanger is my friend,'’ firmly re- 
plied the countess, with a defiant lifting of the 
golden head, ‘‘and my respect for him is so 
sincere that I can without hesitation accept the 
services he offered in friendship." 

“Very well; there will be the more for us," 
said Wilbrand, turning his beaming eyes on the 
treasure heap. “ Once more the genial sun 
shines on the Hallas! Just think, Didi, if we 
hadn't this old castle on our hands, we might 
build a modern palace ; and if you would help 
me with your love I might yet make amends for 
the follies of my youth. But—" here his gay 
voice became sad and reproachful — “ you are 
not the Didi you once were — you don't care for 
me any more. You have branded me with a 
stigma, and will calmly let me go to destruc- 
tion — " 

■ He buried his face in his hands, and deep 


I 20 


The Little Countess, 


silence reigned for several moments in the dark- 
ening chamber. 

“ Well !” he cried after a while, looking up and 
turning proudly toward his cousin, whose fea- 
tures he could not distinguish in the twilight 
shadows, “ if you have nothing to say, let us 
conclude this painful scene — let us divide as you 
suggest.’' 

There was a second silence ; it was broken by 
Candide’s faltering tones : 

No — no — we will not divide, dear Wilbrand ; 
take all the gems; everything — and me with 
them.” 

“And now, my own Didi,” said the count a 
little later, “ 1 want 3^011 to be happy and beauti- 
ful, as you can be if you will only try ; you could 
accomplish anything you undertook. If Prince 
Moritz appoints me to his suite I shall have to 
accompany him to Ital3’ ; and 1 know I may 
safel}" count on becoming his chamberlain. 
Then, my dearest, my sweetest ! I want you to 
shine as you can. With these gems — ” he hung 


a pair of glittering diamonds in her ears ; twined 
a fillet of rare pearls in her hair ; clasped a 
shimmering brooch at the throat of her coarse 
black gown, and slipped on her finger the price- 
less betrothal ring which had been their grand- 
mother's — with these gems, my own, you can 
do anything. By heaven!" stepping back and 
surveying with a critical glance the lovely 
picture — what a transformation ! How you 
manage with the aid of a few trifling ornaments 
to give that little pale face of yours such royal 
beauty is a mystery to me. You are the true 
daughter of a noble race; and it would be a 
sacrilege for you to wed with any other. By 
right you belong to me — the last Count Halla. 
Together we may be proud of the blood which 
courses through our veins alone !" 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE BETROTHED. 

The shadow which had rested for years on the 
ruins of Hohneck Castle was at last removed ; 
and the word future '' once more had a signifi- 
cation within the old walls. The newly 
betrothed pair were yet exchanging promises 
for the new life when Anatole entered the room 
to announce that the post-keeper from the village 
desired an audience with Count Halla. 

Wilbrand’s face flushed, and his usually com- 
posed manner betra3^ed considerable embarrass- 
ment, as he bade the old butler admit the visitor. 
Candide hastily swept the jewels into a drawer ; 
then turned to survey with haughty inquiry, the 
post keeper, who saluted her with clumsy 
courtesy. 



The Betrothed, 


123 


‘^Well, Count/' he began, addressing Wil- 
brand with an air of easy familiarity, have you 
considered that little business we were talking 
about this morning? You said you would know 
in two hours, just how matters stood up here ; 
so I thought rd come up and see if — ” 

All right," hastily interposed the Count, 
turning his back toward the countess, ostensibly 
to hand the visitor a chair ; but his real object 
was to conceal from Candide the unpleasant 
expression on his face. I have considered the 
matter, and have come to the conclusion that 
your offer is ridiculously low. In a few months 
the railway will pass through Hohneck ; then, 
as you know, there will be no further need of a 
post-station, and you will, naturally, want to turn 
your attention to some profitable business — inn- 
keeping for instance. I should not be surprised 
if Hohneck became a fashionable summer resort 
— the air, the water, is delicious ! Now, suppose 
there was a first class hotel on this hill—" 


J24 


The Little Countess. 


A startled cry from the countess interrupted 
him, while the post-keeper cried admiringly : 

'' Oh — oh ! the devil fetch me but your’sis the 
cleverest head I know of ! Why, sir, do you 
know, thought of that very scheme ? — but 
not exactly as you thought of it, of course,” he 
hastened to add in an apologetic tone. 

“ Certainly not,” assented Wilbrand, with a 
compassionate smile, as if it were impossible for 
a post-keeper and himself to entertain similar 
ideas. Nor would you be able without a com- 
petent assistant to accomplish the work.” 

Ah — ah !” again ejaculated the would-be 
hotel proprietor, twirling his hat between his 
fingers. 

‘‘ I should think,” pursued the count with a 
patronizing air, you would require a partner 
— a clever man who would be able to advise 
you, to suppply the polish — as it were — while 
you attended to the manual labor. Hear me 
out,” — with a majestic wave of his hand silenc- 
ing the post-keeper, who was about to interrupt. 


The Betrothed. 


125 


The first step, and indeed the most important 
is this: Before there can be any question about 
a contract between you and me, public atten- 
tion must be attracted to Hohneck. There 
must be a — ahem — a discovery of something 
wonderful — something — er — that will attract the 
attention of the newspapers. For instance : 
suppose a skeleton were found in the subterran- 
ean passages of the castle — a spring of water 
containing medicinal virtues might be discovered 
among the veins — a ghost in the funeral chapel — 
in fact, anything unique that would draw public 
attention to the castle. That once accomplished, 
improvements would begin here; romantic 
promenades, picturesque arbors — and all that 
sort of thing. The gate-keeper would of course 
refuse to admit the inquisitive sight-seer — 
because of the confusion, the disorder, etcetera, 
etcetera ; but a trifling pour boire, you under- 
stand ? — would induce him for once — ha, ha ! — 
for once to allow the travelers a glimpse of the 
charming view — 


126 


The Little Countess. 


— eh !’* grunted the delighted post-keeper, 
running his stubby fingers through his hair, I 
understand the Herr Count ; the newspapers 
influence the tourist, the tourist influences me, 
and I influence the exclusive Count Halla. I 
see, I see! You may depend on me, my noble 
patron. What is your price?” 

In his enthusiasm, which was heightened by 
the unusually generous glass of bitters he had 
quaffed to strengthen himself for his tramp up 
the hill, he almost embraced Count Halla. Ha, 
ha, ha !” he laughed ; '' splendid ! magnificent ! 
Just think of it, Herr Count! Fireworks! pic- 
nics! balls! music — ” 

He paused abruptly ; the pale face which 
suddenly confronted him rendering him as 
speechless as if it were the head of a Medusa. 
A clear, icy voice said, accentuating every word: 

There is in the archives of Hohneck Castle 
a document that disowns and disinherits any 
Halla who would dare to sell his ancestral 
estate. Nor can this castle be leased, nor — ” 


The Betrothed. 


127 


“ My dear Candide/’ interposed Wilbrand, his 
tone pleasant enough, but the veins in his tem- 
ples ominously swollen, I think we ought to 
be glad of the chance to get rid of this old 
rookery. Besides, you will not care to remain 
at Hohneck while I am absent.'' 

I intend to remain at the castle until — until 
you come back." 

Then," said the post-keeper with a scowl, I 
suppose I may as well go home." 

“Yes," answered Wilbrand, with difficulty 
forcing himself to speak composedly; “you may 
go home and get ready an extra post chaise. I 
shall want it to-night." 

A painful silence fell upon the room when the 
sound of the post-keeper's clumsy tread died 
away in the distance. 

“Well!" at last exclaimed the count, rising 
and taking his hat from the table ; “ I may as 
well be going." 

“ I am sorry you are going in anger," said 


128 


The Little Countess. 


Candide in a low voice, but I would rather die 
than see our name carried to market/' 

Sentimental nonsense !” rudely ejaculated 
Wilbrand. I verily believe you imagine your- 
self the sole worthy representative of our family ! 
Very good! You may keep the fragments 
rescued from the shipwreck — I shall free my- 
self from the hereditary fetters which would 
bind my independence. I disinherit myself — I 
am free!" He laughed harshly, and shook his 
fist in defiance at the time-stained portraits on 
the walls. 

Silently, and without a glance toward her 
cousin, Candide drew from the table the drawer 
in which she had concealed the jewels, and 
carried it to the window opening on a narrow 
balcony which hung like a swallow’s nest over 
the precipice and the mountain torrent below. 

‘‘What are you going to do?" inquired Wil- 
brand, his startled glance following the girl’s 
movements. 

“ I am going to prove that I am neither envi- 


The Betrothed, 


129 


ous nor greedy/' was the quiet rejoinder, as she 
stepped out upon the balcony. 

Are you mad? come back!” cried Wilbrand; 
then flinging himself into a chair he folded his 
arms on the table, buried his face in them and 
burst into tears. I wish from my soul,” he 
sobbed in bitter anger, that my dead body 
instead of my loving, hopeful heart had been 
brought to you ! Then perhaps you would have 
condescended to shed one tear for him who is 
not one whit worse than the majority of his 
forefathers. Your peculiar cult does not pre- 
vent you from sacrificing the living to the dead 
— you, who refuse to humble yourself before 
your Creator, bow meekly to the phantasies ol 
those fallible men and women who, ages ago, 
crumbled back into the dust whence they camel” 
He had not concluded when he felt the slight, 
lissome form of his cousin glide to his side, and 
sink to her knees. She gently drew one of his 
hands into both her own, and clasped it closely. 
He could plainly feel the violent throbbing of her 


130 


The Little ^ Countess, 


heart against his arm, but he did not look up. He 
felt no pity for her — he was very, very angry ; his 
dearest hopes had been crushed. He was dis- 
appointed — frustrated ; he who, all his life long, 
had been accustomed to win — had been defeated, 
as only Candida knew how to defeat him! It 
was the old struggle between the two ; the 
struggle for mastery which threatened to 
smother the old love. 

“ Wilbrand,” she whispered, if I pain you, 
my own suffering is a hundred fold more acute. 
I would endure torture rather than hurt you, 
but I cannot — Oh ! I cannot act differently. I 
feel the utter desolation of my existence ; you 
are my only hope — the only star in my heaven. 
I could die — cheerfully — willingly, for you ; but 
so long as I have breath I must endure every- 
thing, renounce everything that the honor of 
our name may bo preserved.’* • 

The count started to his feet, brushed back the 
hair which had fallen on his temples, and twist- 
ing the ends of his disarranged moustache, said : 


The Beti^othed. 


131 

Then, my poor deluded child, we may as 
well say farewell forever. No good can come of 
my tarrying longer here — here where I, who am 
of the Present, am not wanted. My love — 
nothing that I can say or do, will move you-^ 
my deeds shall speak for me !’' 

She rose suddenly ; and placing herself in his 
path, said in her old imperious tone : 

‘‘ Here, take the jewels with you. I don't need 
them." 

He emptied the contents of the drawer into 
his handkerchief, and knotted the corners 
together. 

I depart like a burglar from the home of my 
ancestors," he said, laughing uneasily. 

‘‘To return a man of deeds and honor," in a 
solemn voice added the countess. The next 
minute their farewells had been exchanged, and 
she was alone in the gloomy chamber. 

Two incidents which occurred to Count Halla 
on his way to the village, served to distract for 


132 


The Little Cotmtess, 


a while his thoughts from the by no means 
pleasurable visions of the future which filled his 
prolific brain. 

The first was a meeting with the young watch- 
man, who was digging in the little garden along- 
side his grandfather's cottage. 

“ Well, Renzi !" carelessly saluted the count, 
moderating his pace. ‘‘ How does hard work 
suit you ?" 

Lorenz thrust his spade into the ground, and 
leaning on it, fixed his gaze on the young noble- 
man’s face : 

‘‘We are commanded not to weigh, or mea- 
sure what is our duty ; but to perform it to the 
best of our ability, in the name of our Heavenly 
Father,” he replied serenely. 

“ True, true,” laughingly nodded the count. 
‘‘Thanks for the pious lesson.” 

‘‘ If my humble fare is not too plain for your 
palate, Herr Count, you are welcome to as much 
as you want of it !” Lorenz called after him. 

“ They all seem to have caught something 


The Betrothed. 


133 


of her spirit and independence/' muttered Wil- 
brand, striding down the path. 

A short distance from the watchman's cot- 
tage he encountered another of Hohneck's citi- 
zens, to whom he could not avoid speaking. 
As he shook Doctor Grunanger's cordially 
extended hand, he said in a patronizing tone : 

‘‘ You must allow me to thank you, Doctor, 
for your services to the princess, and my 
cousin." 

‘‘ As for my services to the countess," promptly 
responded the doctor. I am grateful to her 
for accepting them, and hope always to be 
worthy of the confidence she places in me." 

Wilbrand did not doubt but his cousin would 
ever find a faithful adherent in the excellent 
doctor ; but when he had parted from the artless, 
single-hearted man, a dark frown settled on his 
face, and remained there until he arrived at the 
post-house. 

His meeting with Wilbrand at that late hour 
in the day, convinced the doctor that matters 


134 


The Little Co^mtess, 


had not gone well at the castle. Accordingl}" 
he quickened his pace, and in due time entered 
the court yard, which was silent and deserted 
as usual. Only Ralf, in an attitude of aggressive 
watchfulness, guarded the bridge. He glided 
toward the doctor, rubbed his sleek sides several 
times against the visitor’s ankles, then started 
on a run toward the terrace, anon looking back 
as if to satisfy himself that the doctor was fol- 
lowing. 

Candide was under the beeches, half kneeling 
by the crumbling parapet, her face hidden in her 
folded arms, which rested on the mossy stones. 
The doctor softly rustled the branches to 
announce his presence ; but the motionless 
figure did not stir. Then he stepped to her 
side, and taking her hand, said in a half-jesting 
tone : 

I came in search of a little wild bird that 
escaped from its cage this morning. Minna 
will become desperate if her guest fails to return 
for supper.” 


The Betrothed, 


135 


At the sound of his voice, Candide lifted her 
head, and fixed her dry, burning e 3 ^es on his 
face. 

What is God T she asked, abruptly. 

It was a strange question, and the doctor was 
at first puzzled how to reply. After a moment’s 
hesitation, he said, breaking as he spoke a spray 
of scarlet bird-weed from the wall, and laying it 
against her hair : 

am no theologian, dear child, and cannot 
answer your question as it ought to be 
answered. But 1 feel God’s hand, His influence 
in everything. Nothing is too small, nothing 
too great to join the universal hymn of praise 
which exalts His wondrous name !” 

Like one who is sinking beneath the waves, 
Candide stretched both hands toward the 
speaker : 

Teach me the melody, my friend, my bene- 
factor,” she cried. I alone have not learned it. 
Lorenz — Minna — all good people turn in horror 
from me because — because — ” 


136 


The Ldttle Countess. 


‘‘ Because/' smilingly interposed the doctor, 
lifting her to her feet, '' because my little Can- 
dide is an obstinate dreamer, in whose heart the 
Holy One will some day reveal Himself, and 
become the mainmast of her ship of life !" 

‘‘ Oh ! if I only dared hope it !” murmured the 
countess. ‘‘ Until now all religions have seemed 
but contemptible hypocrisy. I can tolerate 
Lorenz’s reproofs, for he is a good — an honest 
man ; I can listen patiently to Minna's lectures, 
for she too is honest ; but when my cousin, who 
is not," — she covered her face with her hands, 
and moaned. 

With a tender touch, the doctor removed the 
trembling little hands, and clasped them in his 
own — releasing them abruptly the next instant, 
and drawing back from her. 

‘‘ Candide — that ring?" he exclaimed, pointing 
to the sparkling diamond on her finger. 

‘Wes; 1 was going to tell you. I am be- 
trothed to my cousin Wilbrand." 


The Betrothed, 


137 


‘‘ Unhappy child ! and you say he is not 
honest 

'' I do not believe my cousin is honest,” she 
said composedly, almost defiantly. 

“ And yet you will marry him ?” 

“And yet I shall marry him,” she repeated, 
letting her gaze rest absently on the houses in 
the valley. 

Down in the valley, in the little office of the 
post-house, stood Count Halla, gracious and 
debonair y toying with the cigar-case from which 
he had just given a cigar to the post-keeper. 

“You ought to have known, my good fellow,” 
he was saying, “ that business is not a subject to 
discuss before women. Of course the countess 
will eventually consent to the project. In the 
meantime, while she is becoming accustomed to 
think favorably of it, you may draw up the 
contract.” 

Tm very much afraid the countess won’t 
change her mind,” with a dubious smile rejoined 
the post-keeper. “And what’s the use of a 


The Little Countess. 


138 

contract if nobody is to hear anything about the 
castle and its attractions? You say you won’t 
return until Spring, and — ” 

‘‘What a mistrustful chap you are!” laugh- 
ingly interrupted the count. “ Don’t be afraid 
that 1 shall neglect to have the castle and its 
fascinations sufficiently written up.” 

“ How are you going to manage it, I’d like to 
know?” suddenly inquired the post -keeper. 
“ You’ll be traveling all the time.” 

“ Ha, ha ! what an innocent you are to be 
sure !” again laughed Wilbrand, flicking the 
ashes from his cigar. “ I dare say I shall be 
able to write with as much ease in Italy as I 
should were I to remain in the battlemented 
tower of Hohneck Castle. Listen: a dispatch 
from Hohneck announces that a brilliant meteor 
was seen in the heavens above this picturesque 
neighborhood — ” 

“But suppose the meteor doesn’t appear? 
Stars don’t shoot at command,” bluntly objected 
the post-keeper. 


The Betrothed. 


139 


Of course not; but who will be the wiser if 
nobody but yourself beholds the wonderful 
meteor? Is not everybody supposed to be 
asleep at midnight? However, if you object to 
a shooting star, how would a slight shock of 
earthquake suit? Any phenomenon will serve 
at first to draw attention to this place/' 

You are a devilish clever fellow !" exclaimed 
the post-keeper, his doubts giving place to ad- 
miration. But how will you bring in the 
castle ?" 

Oh — " with a careless shrug — ‘‘ somewhat in 
this fashion: ‘We learn that Count Halla, the 
owner of that ancient and interesting castle at 
Hohneck, proposes in the near future to restore 
this magnificent monument of a long-buried 
past. But little remains of the original palace; 
a tower, some subterranean passages and gloomy 
underground dungeons are yet to be seen. Count 
Halla is now in Italy, the cradle of art, where he 
is conferring with several celebrated architects. 
The work of restoration is already begun in the 


140 


The Little Cotmtess, 


romantic park with its old-time statuary and 
fountains ; and the castle, once an impregnable 
fortress, promises soon to become the pearl of 
our picturesque mountain region/ ” 

‘‘ Ha ! ha ! ha with uproarious exultation 
laughed the post-keeper. ‘‘ That will fetch the 
tourist 

‘‘Yes, I imagine it will,” complacently as- 
sented Wilbrand. “ But they must not be 
allowed to suspect that we have designs on their 
pockets. The pecuniary benefits of such adver- 
tising will follow later.” 

“My dear Count,” confidentially whispered 
the post-keeper, “ you must not let the countess 
see the notices. Business, you know — women!” 
with a significant wink. 

Wilbrand colored, and with a gesture of dis- 
gust shook off the hand his “ partner ” laid with 
easy familiarity on his shoulder. 

“ Not let the countess see them ?” he repeated. 
“Why not? On the contrary. Countess Halla 
shall be the first to read them — I don’t see any- 


The Beti^othed. 


141 

thing to be ashamed of in restoring an old build- 
ing which is crumbling to decay/* 

No — no, of course there’s nothing to be 
ashamed of in restoring the castle ; but — about 
the hotel, you know ?” 

Well, what about it?” irritably interrogated 
the count. 

Why, I thought perhaps — ” 

‘‘ Better keep your thoughts to yourself, m}^ 
friend,” interposed Wilbrand, buttoning his 
coat. Calculate your profits, and if they are 
satisfactory, be content to let other Christians 
go the way that best suits them — be it to heaven 
or to the devil ! — adieu.” 

“ Go you to the devil !” hissed the post-keeper, 
shaking his first after his partner, and adding as 
his glance wandered up to the ruin on the hill- 
top, ‘‘but not until matters up yonder have 
been arranged to my satisfaction.” 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE NEWSPAPER NOTICES. 

Its most partial admirer could not have said 
truthfully that Doctor Grunanger’s winter great 
coat was a handsome, or becoming accessory to 
his wardrobe. It was made of coarse gray 
cloth, in a fashion that copied that of the most 
ordinary Hungarian bunda ; and was lined with 
sheep-skin. However, as a durable and service- 
able garment, this Knecht Ruprecht mantle 
certainly fulfilled its mission. From November 
to April, the doctor never stirred out doors 
unaccompanied by his ‘‘ fur coat,’' which was as 
frequently — and in the coldest weather, too — 
strapped securely to his saddle as wrapped about 
his shoulders. 



The Newspaper Notices, 


H3 


Countess Halla’s liking for this montrosity of 
a cloak, was in keeping with the rest of her 
peculiarities — indeed, she would have preferred 
it to a handsome velvet lined throughout with 
costly erminCo Almost daily, even in the very 
worst weather, the shaggy coat would present 
itself at the castle, and was always accompanied 
by a basket of fruit, a book, or something that 
was sure to be acceptable to the fair chatelaine. 
Fifty times, at least, had the sheep-skin lining 
been turned to the fire in the grand saloon ; and 
every time its wearer had remarked, as he 
slipped into the warm folds: ‘‘Ah! that will 
keep me snug and warm to the heart for twenty- 
four hours!’' After which he would make his 
adieux, and roll like a ball down the staircase, 
while Candide would hold a lamp at the top 
until she heard the outer door close. 

“ Do you know, my dear child,” one day near 
Christmas, said the doctor, “ that your betrothal 
to your cousin is rather fortunate for both you 
and me ? It permits us to be as friendly as we 


H4 


The Little Countess. 


please, without any danger of either of us 
apprehending unpleasant results. Father and 
daughter could not be nearer — or dearer to each 
other than are we. If only that graceless 
scamp — I beg your pardon, my dear, but you 
know what a blunderer I am — what I meant 
to say was : If only Count Wilbrand would 
come home, or write, and let us know where he 
is, and what he is doing. He may have good 
reasons for his silence ; but for the life of me 1 
can't guess them !” 

One day toward the close of April the doctor 
appeared at the castle without his fur coat. 

Because,” he explained, ‘‘ in the first place it 
is quite warm ; and in the second, I came away 
in such a hurry that I forgot it. I come as 
special messenger with these — ” laying two let- 
ters on the table in front of Candide. 

Then, notwithstanding his boastful mention of 
the day's Spring-like temperature, he walked to 
the fireplace and stirred the logs until a bright 
blaze shot up the chimney. 


The Nczospapei" Notices. 145 

‘^Well?’' he inquired after a long silence, 
during which the countess had opened and read 
her letters ; “ what excuse does the young — gen- 
tleman give for not writing until now ? The 
letter is from Switzerland, I see.” 

Candide's face was very pale when she handed 
him Wilbrand’s letter; she did not speak, and 
the doctor proceeded to read, unconsciously 
beating an impatient tattoo on the floor with his 
toe. 

‘‘My adored Candide: 

“ I have not written to you before because I 
was unable to give you the news I most desired 
to send — the news of a speedy end to our pro- 
bation. No, my dearest, we are yet far from 
the end of our trial ; and it is worse than death 
for me to be obliged to confess that I am to 
blame. Spare me the mortifying details, my 
own Didi, and once more — and for the last time, 
I swear it! — let your angelic patience bear with 
your most unhappy Wilbrand. The jewels you 


146 


The Little Countess. 


gave me are gone — every one! Heaven only 
knows how I regret my foolish extravagance! 
My last, my only hope is the castle— the useless 
old ruin. So soon as the prince returns to 
Germany I shall fly to Hohneck to plead for 
pardon, and to rescue what may yet be saved 
from utter loss. Write to me very soon, my 
adored bride, and tell me you forgive me once 
more. And, beloved, do not be surprised if you 
receive some newspapers containing notices 
of our old rookery. All will be explained to 
your satisfaction when I see you. Adieu, and 
think with pity of your faithful 

Wilbrand/' 

Humph !’' grunted the doctor, tossing the 
elegant note sheet on the table. I can’t un- 
derstand a word of it.” 

“ He wants to turn the castle into a coffee- 
house or public inn,” in a toneless voice ex- 
plained the countess. 


The Newspaper Notices. 


147 


“Ha — hum — he does, does he?’' snorted the 
incensed doctor. 

“Yes. Will you wait until I write my an- 
swers to these two letters?” asked Candide. 
“ You may read Renzi's, too, if you wish.” 

The doctor slowly unfolded the second epistle 
and read : 

“ Revered Countess : 

“ From my heart I thank you and the gener- 
ous Herr Doctor for the news of my grand- 
father. But a moment’s notice is necessary 
when you want me to come — when the last sad 
hour arrives. There is something soul-satisfying 
in the blessing of a good man ! and it is to you, 
revered little countess, that I owe the blessing 
•my grandfather sent me. Yes, I ow.e you that 
and every good thing that has happened to me. 
1 am studying diligently, and my progress seems 
to gratify my teachers. I have done so little for 
poor grandfather during his life, but I hope to 
be able to show him a last honor — when his 


148 


The Little Cotmtess. 


release comes. Three splendid singers have 
promised to come with me to Hohneck, and we 
shall sing a beautiful requiem, the music of 
which is so exquisite that every time I sing it 
the tears come to my eyes, and death seems but 
the fulfillment of a solemn promise. If only 
you could be induced, little countess, to attend 
a religious ceremony! I know your presence 
would inspire me to sing in praise of the true 
Canaan and its peaceful streams, as I never sang 
before. Ah 1 how I should sing if I knew that 
the sublime melody was heard by my revered 
benefactress ! I sign myself as ever. 

Your obedient and grateful 

“Lorenz Marten.” 

When the doctor had returned this letter to 
its envelope, the countess handed him the one 
she had written to her cousin. 

“ Am I to read it T' he inquired. 

She merely bowed assent. 

“Dear Wilbrand,” he read. “You will be 


The Newspaper Notices. 


149 


welcome whenever you come ; but any plans 
which concern the turning of the castle into a 
pleasure resort, are, so long as I have any right 
here, utterly useless. Your unalterable 

Candide.” 

‘‘ What do you mean by ‘ unalterable !' 
abruptly demanded the doctor. Does it refer 
to your decision concerning the castle, or to 
your sentiments towards your cousin 

“ To both,’' was the quiet response. 

The few lines she had penned to Lorenz Mar- 
ten gave the doctor much satisfaction. 

Dear Renzi : 

It will certainly go well with you in this 
world ! The doctor thinks your summons will 
come very soon, for your grandfather, although 
he does not complain, grows daily weaker. I 
shall be glad to hear you sing of the ‘ true 
Canaan — ’ 1 dare say we will all long for its 
‘ peaceful streams.' Auf wiedersehen. 

'‘Candide von Halla," 


The Little Countess. 


150 

On his way to mail these two letters, Doctor 
Grunanger met the post-keeper, who seemed 
bursting with importance. 

Ha, Herr Doctor !’' he cried, eagerly thrust- 
ing into the doctor's hand an open newspaper, 
and pointing triumphantly to an article on the 
first page. Read that, and see what the Resi- 
denz thinks of the scenery around our village. 
My word on it ! Hohneck is going to rise !" 

Everybody was talking about the notice in 
the newspaper ; and its importance was by no 
means lessened, when, a day or two afterward, 
it became known that the long-hoped-for, long- 
talked-of railway was at last to be built. Other 
lengthy and laudatory notices of Hohneck’s 
attractive scenery followed in quick succession 
— indeed, one could not take up a newspaper 
but one was sure to see a description, in most 
glowing terms, of some portion of the neigh- 
borhood. And one morning there actually 
appeared in the advertising column, the post- 
keeper's announcement to the traveling public 


The Newshctper Notices, 1 5 1 

of his intention to open a hotel on the most 
romantic eminence in the neighborhood/' 

This advertisement appeared every alternate 
day, with the unfailing regularity of an intermit- 
tent fever. Another advertisement occupied a 
position of equal prominence with the post- 
keeper's hotel project ; and was also an indica- 
tion of Hohneck’s sudden prosperity. It ran as 
follows ; 

‘‘ Important TO the ladies: The railway to 
Hohneck (three hours from the Residenz) having 
become a settled fact, commercial relations will 
open between that romantic village and the 
various towns and cities on the line. The 
Women's Industrial League has concluded to 
extend a helping hand to the languishing lace 
industry — which was once in a flourishing con- 
dition in the mountain region — and will establish, 
at Hohneck, a lace depository that will be under 
the management of a committee appointed by 
the League. The depository will enable the 


152 


The Little Countess. 


producer to save the time and profits now lost 
through dealing with the middlemen ; while, at 
the same time, the purchaser will be able to 
secure lace at more reasonable prices. Letters 
addressed, and orders sent, to Frau Sophie 
Schindler, Hohneck, will receive prompt atten- 
tion. 

The Committee of the 

Women’s Industrial League.” 

Immediately below this notice, was another : 

‘^Frau Sophie Schindler, an active member of 
the Woman’s Industrial League, desires to 
inform the public that she is prepared to supply 
respectable city families with competent servants. 
Several strong, healthy house and nurse-maids 
await engagements.” 

A quiver of self-consciousness passed through 
the little sewing-circle, which enjoyed the dis- 
tinction of forming the Committee of the 
Women’s Industrial League,” when first con- 
fronted by this public announcement of its 


The Nezvspaper Notices. 


153 


important venture. There were gratulatory 
hand-shakings; admiring comments; the few 
typographical errors detected by the more criti- 
cal members of the League/' were amiably 
condoned — so great minded a corporation must 
not heed so trifling a fault ! 

At the next meeting of the League, at the 
residence of the apothecary, a certain reserve 
characterized the conversation whenever it 
verged upon the subject of the advertisements. 
At length Minna Grunanger, who could no 
longer restrain her desire for information, boldly 
inquired : 

“ Well, Sophie, any orders yet?" 

‘‘ One must not expect everything at once !" 
replied Frau Schindler, diligently clicking her 
knitting-needles. The advertisements appeared 
only the second time yesterday — you ought to 
know from experience that what one expects 
does not always come to pass." 

Minna was about to retort angrily when Lena 


154 


The Little Countess. 


Schindler came hurriedly into the room with a 
letter which she gave to her mother. 

A letter, mamma — commissions! — commis- 
sions she exclaimed breathlessly. 

After the post-mark and the address had been 
scrutinized by each member of the committee, 
Frau Schindler broke the seal, and with cere- 
monious air read aloud the following: 

My Dear Madam: I shall require, toward 
the close of May, a competent waitress to assist 
my waiting-woman, and to accompany me on my 
travels in the summer. My home is at the 
Residenz in the winter. I should like a young 
woman of some education, and one of pleasing 
appearance. When you have found a suitable 
person, be kind enough to let me know, and T 
shall come to Hohneck to see her, and also to 
purchase some lace. 

“Very truly yours, 


Frau Bertha Inger.’ 


The Newspaper Notices. 


155 


I shall answer the letter to-morrow said 
Frau Schindler in a dignified tone. 

“Yes — of course; but do you know of a 
waitress?'' in unison inquired several voices. 

“Certainly;" promptly responded Frau 
Schindler, continuing as she noted the doubting 
faces of her friends : “ Liesi Marten is as if 
created for the position. Her grandfather will 
not live many hours ; and it isn't likely that 
the future opera singer will care to trouble him- 
self about the girl any more than will his 
aristocratic benefactress — Liesi came to see me 
last week, and told me — many things!" she con- 
cluded with a significant expression. 

This commission from the Residenz was 
followed in the next few days by others, not so 
important, it is true, but Frau Schindler was not 
a little elated by an application for a stable-bo}^, 
and a healthy nurse. Everything would come 
in good time ; they could not have wished for 
better success. 



CHAPTER VIII. 




FRAU BERTHA INGER. 


The fair widow returned from Ostend to the 
Residenz in a rather dissatisfied frame of mind. 

Her season at the fashionable resort had been a 
disappointment. Count Halla, the only one of 
her admirers upon whom she looked with favor, 
had vanished without a word from the table d'hote ■ 

and the promenade. It was said that he had - 

accompanied Prince Moritz to Italy. Frau | 

Bertha would perhaps have been more discon- j 

tented, had she not known that the count’s flight :| 

affected ^Miss Kopp even more seriously than it j 

did herself. Miss Kopp was so unapproachable j 

to every one who could not share her exercises | 

of strength and skill, that Count Halla’s depart- I 



Fratc Bertha Ingcr. 157 

lire left her in comparative isolation. However, 
the season being near its close, and the weather 
becoming unusually inclement, the young lady’s 
athletic out-door exercises were necessarily 
curtailed to such an extent that she was glad, at 
last, to accept Frau Inger’s amiable offers of 
companionship ; and the former rivals might 
now have been seen driving together, almost 
daily, in Miss Kopp's elegant carriage, or when 
it was fine walking arm in arm on the promenade. 
When they bade each other good-bye at the 
close of the season. Miss Kopp even promised to 
visit Frau Inger at the Residenz on her way to 
Rome. 

Now, although Frau Bertha was the embodi- 
ment of good-nature and simplicity, she was 
shrewd enough to guess that it was not admi- 
ration for herself that prompted in Miss Kopp 
the desire to visit the neighborhood of Count 
Halla’s native place, and her suspicions were, in 
the main, correct. But it was an undeserved 
tribute to Miss Kopp’s heart to imagine that q 


158 


The Little Countess. 


tender regard for Count Halla prompted the 
desire to behold his native home. Far more 
likely was it that motives of revenge caused the 
desire, for the fair Amazon looked on her 
recreant cavalier’s sudden departure from Ostend 
as a stratagem by which he thought to humiliate 
her. She had intended, by rejecting his suit» 
to punish him for the masculine superiority he 
had presumed to exhibit in their various 
tourneys ; and he had actually had the audacity 
to quit the field without so much as inquiring if 
his going would grieve her ! 

In the course of the winter Frau Inger 
received two letters from Miss Kopp. They 
were written in very long, slim characters, on 
very heavy note-paper. The first epistle, which 
was sent from Paris, stated that the modern 
Babel by the Seine was a highly entertaining 
town,” and Miss Kopp hoped her dear friend 
Mrs. Inger was quite well.” The second letter 
was dated at Rome, and mentioned that the 
ancient city on the Tiber offered much that was 


Frau Bertha Biger. 


159 


interesting and instructive. Among the numer- 
ous acquaintances she had met there, the name 
of Count Halla was the only one referred to. 
Miss Kopp hoped that Mrs.’' Inger continued 
to enjoy good health — and Palmyra, my favor- 
ite terrier, has four lovely puppies, all black like 
their mother.” This bit of interesting news 
concluded the correspondence between the two 
ladies. 

After perusing this epistle from the Tiber, 
Frau Bertha was seized with an uncontrollable 
desire to behold the ancient city on its banks ; 
but her French maid, ‘who preferred domestic 
comforts to the inconveniences of travel, assured 
her that all persons of fashion deserted Rome in 
April ; and that it would be quite absurd to 
think of going there at that time of year. That 
decided the matter. While nothing that Fashion 
dictated was too absurd, or too conspicuous for 
the fashionable widow, everything interdicted 
by the same supreme autocrat was avoided as 
would have been a pestilence. Consequently, 


j6o 


The Little Co7tntess. 


the journey prohibited by fashion was not again 
mentioned ; and Frau Bertha contented herself 
in her comfortable lodgings with thinking about 
the fascinating Count Halla. 

Now and then a brief notice in the ‘‘ Court 
Intelligence column of the newspapers would 
inform Frau Bertha that Prince Moritz and 
suite had arrived at such or such place, and had 
had an audience, or expected one with such or 
such illustrious personage. But the information 
was meagre enough. 

One day, in looking for the court news, she 
happened to spy, in a conspicuous column of 
the newspaper, an interesting description of 
Hohneck. The balmy spring weather, together 
with a sugary epistle from Frau Sophie Schind- 
ler — to whom she had written on a business 
matter in answer to an advertisement in the 
same newspaper — tempted the widow to under- 
take a journey to the “ romantic mountain region 
whose picturesque scenery was attracting the 
traveling public.” 



CANDIDE STRETCHED BOTH HANDS TOWARD THE DOCTOR.— -See Page 135 



Frau Bertha Biger. 


i6i 


Arrived at Hohneck, a clumsy lad conducted 
her from the railway station to the quondam 
post-keeper’s ‘Miotel” — the same mentioned in 
flattering terms in the newspaper notice. After 
she had lunched vSatisfactorily, the same lad, who 
wore a sort of livery, and whose duty it was to 
guide travelers to the hotel (and who, by the 
way, had taken advantage of the luncheon hour 
to inform Frau Schindler of the arrival of a lady 
from the Residenz) accompanied Frau Bertha to 
the actuary’s residence. 

The information she had received had pre- 
pared Frau Schindler for a visit; consequently, 
when the widow rang the bell at the actuary’s, 
she found the ladies at home,” and dressed in 
their Sunday’s best. Their welcome was so 
flattering, and made so favorable an impression 
on Frau Bertha, that a bargain in lace was very 
soon concluded, and the subject of the waitress 
introduced. The young person who had been 
so highly recommended to gnadige Frau'" 
would not be able to make her appearance before 


i 62 


The Little Countess. 


evening, as her grandfather’s funeral would not 
occur until late in the afternoon ; but if Frau 
Inger could be induced to prolong her stay in 
Hohneck until the next day, daughter Lena 
would be only to glad to show her about the 
picturesque neighborhood. 

The gnadige Frau''' having nothing to urge 
her return to the Residenz, consented to remain, 
and during the promenade with the talkative 
Lena, adroitly turned the conversation to the 
castle on the hill-top, and its owners. 

They are very rich, I presume ?” she 
observed in an innocent tone, glancing up at the 
ruined walls. I remember reading something 
in the newspapers about tlie Halla estates.” 

Lena laughed — the sound was shrill, unmusical 
as the barking of a terrier. 

Rich?” she repeated. If they are, we here- 
abouts don’t know it ! Count Wilbrand is travel- 
ing in search of a wife with moneys — but it’s not 
likely he’ll find any one silly enough to be caught 
by his chaff. His debts outnumber his dollars, 


Fratc Bertha Inger, 163 

and if he hadn’t cleared out when he did he 
would now be languishing in the debtor’s prison. 
Rich ? Ha ! ha ! — Beg pardon, gnadige Frau ! 
but 1 have to laugh every time I think of the 
legacy — Count Halla didn’t stop long here the 
day it was divided between himself and his 
cousin !” 

‘‘ Ah !” 

For a moment Frau Bertha was too amazed to 
speak. After a while she said with forced 
indifference : 

'' His cousin is a model of excellence, I dare 
say ?” 

Humph !” unceremoniously ejaculated Lena. 

She may be a model, but not the sort /should 
care to copy. Some people are charitable 
enough to say she’s not altogether — 3 "ou know — ” 
significantly tapping her forehead — ‘‘ right in her 
mind.” 

Indeed ? Poor thing !” sympathetically 
responded the widow. She lives in strict 
seclusion, I suppose ?' 


164 


The Little Countess . 


‘‘ Of course — nobody wants to associate with 
such a person. Our mamma does notallow us 
to visit her — it isn’t her rude manner that we 
dislike, but — ” 

But what?” inquired Frau Bertha, unable to 
understand the girl’s meaning smiles and expres- 
sions. 

Oh, she has too many admirers ; and she’s so 
bold she doesn’t care who knows it, either !” 

Admirers ?” with renewed interest repeated 
the widoj^. Are there so many gentlemen in 
this place ? — her cousin, perhaps, is — ” 

Oh, Count Wilbrand wouldn’t think of fall- 
ing in love with such a wild cat !” laughingly 
interrupted Lena. He knows her too well! — 
knows what a dreadful temper she’s got. No, it 
isn’t the count she is trying to captivate, it’s the 
doctor — this is in strict confidence, gnadige Frau 
— our doctor, who used to be the most discreet 
man, and who was as good as engaged to a very 
respectable girl. He is so infatuated with 
Countess Candide that he has eyes for no one 


Frau Bertha Iiiger, 165 

else — and, indeed, no honest girl would look at 
him now ! Then there is Lorenz — ” she paused 
abruptly, remembering in time that Lorenz 
Marten was the brother of the waitress” whom 
her mother had recommended to Frau Inger. 

A young man,” she said instead, “ whom the 
countess is educating to be an opera^singer — she 
who has scarcely enough to eat ! Some people 
say she intends to marry him when he becomes 
a famous singer.” 

What is this ?” inquired Frau Bertha stopping 
in front of the funeral chapel. 

“ This is where the Hallas bury their dead, 
and that ruin up yonder is their castle — very 
romantic, isn’t it?” 

At this moment the sound of singing — voices 
chanting a solemn hymn, broke the silence of the 
balmy spring evening. 

It must be down at the watchman’s cottage,” 
suggested Lena, in answer to her companion’s 
inquiry. If you like we can go down, and 
perhaps you will see Liesi Marten.” 


The Little Countess. 


1 66 

Frau Inger assented, and a few steps brought 
them to the lowly dwelling from the open door 
and windows of which poured the volume of 
melodious sound. Every object in the little room 
was plainly visible ; against the rear wall stood a 
table covered with a white cloth ; on it were two 
burning wax candles, and a crucifix, the former 
wreathed with fresh flowers. Beside this impro- 
vised altar stood the singers, and in front of it 
was the coffin in which reposed the body of the 
aged watchman. A young man assisted by a 
pretty girl was arranging the interior of the 
coffin. The large white cat perched on the 
window-sill caused Lena to nudge her compan- 
ion’s elbow, and whisper: 

‘‘ I thought as much ! There’s the countess.” 

Yes, Countess Candide was there, kneeling 
beside the humble bier, smoothing the pillow on 
which Lorenz reverently laid the hoary head of 
his grandfather. The flickering candle-light cast 
fitful shadows on the noble face bent tenderly 
above the pillow, while her gentle fingers taste- 


Frau Bertha Btger, 


167 


fully arranged the simple adornments of the old 
man’s last couch. Frau Inger was certain that 
she had seen somewhere a pictured sepulture 
like this. 

That is Lorenz Marten, the opera singer,” 
whispered Lena, with a second nudge recalling 
the widow from her mental ramble through the 
various picture galleries she had visited, in 
search of the painting whose likeness to the 
scene before her was so puzzling. 

Ah !” she returned, letting her abstracted 
gaze rest on the young man’s handsome profile. 
‘‘ Ah !” she repeated, with more animation, 
forgetting all about the puzzling likeness. 

Frau Bertha had never experienced the tender 
passion called love ; but the instant her glance 
fell on Lorenz Marten’s manly form, she fully 
understood why the haughty countess was so 
interested in her humble protege. 

That is Liesi — Liesi Marten.” Another 
reminder on her elbow drew the widow’s atten- 


The Little Countess. 


i68 

tion from the brother to his black-haired sister, 
who was weeping at the foot of the coffin. 

‘‘ I like her appearance very much — very much 
indeed,'' said Frau Bertha, who was charmed at 
the prospect of becoming connected, even 
remotely, with so interesting a group as that 
before her. 

The chant was concluded, and the singers were 
preparing to leave the chamber of death, when 
the angular frame of Lena Schindler obstructed 
the door, 

‘‘ Liesi," she began in her harsh, abrupt tones, 

here is the lady who came from the Residenz 
to see if you will suit her." 

This rude interruption of the solemn scene 
had occurred before Frau Inger could realize 
what Lena was going to do. The widow's 
kindly nature was outraged by the heartlessness 
of the action ; she passed quickly to Liesi's side, 
took her hand and said — half-turning toward 
Lorenz: 

It was not my "intention to intrude at this 


169 


Frau Bertha Inger. 

solemn hour ; but since 1 am here — quite con- 
trary to my wishes I assure you — may not I say 
that if you will trust yourself to me you will find 
in me a true friend ?” 

She spoke with deep feeling, and Lorenz, who 
was charmed by her gracious manner, answered 
for his sister ; 

Your coming at this hour, gracious lady, is 
like a promise from heaven. It is a last flower 
to lay in the grave of our beloved dead, who 
was so brave, so honest, that we may look on 
your kind offer as one of the results of his bless- 
ing. You see, gracious lady, the poor old man 
waked and watched so long for us, that when 
he laid himself to rest, I begged my friends here 
to sing a beautiful slumber song, a — ” here his 
voice broke, and he turned to the window to 
hide his emotion. Frau Inger gave Liesi’s plump 
fingers a sympathetic pressure, and was turning 
without a wordj; to leave the room when Coun- 
tess Halla stepped to her side. 

If you have no objections, madam,’' she said 


The Little Countess. 


ijo 

in her cold, imperious manner, I should like to 
walk part of the way with you. Where are you 
going r 

‘‘We were going — I thought — perhaps I 
might be allowed to — see the castle,** stammered 
Frau Inger. 

“ The sunset from the castle is very fine ; you 
are right in desiring to view the spectacle, and I 
shall be pleased to show — ** 

“/have offered to show our romantic village 
to the gnadigo Frau T interrupted Lena, with 
an angry scowl at the countess, “ and I don*t 
intend to let any one rob me of the honor.** 

“ I think you will let me do so,** calmly 
responded the countess. “ At least you will 
leave the lady to my guidance when we arrive 
at those stone columns up yonder. They mark 
the boundary of my possessions, and once within 
those walls, I will answer for the safety of any 
one who trusts herself to me.** 

Then turning her back upon Lena she said to 
Frau Inger; 


Rrau Bertha Biger. 


171 

Will you come with me ?” 

Frau Bertha was enchanted ; here at last she 
was face to face with that ‘‘ aristocratic 
hauteur/’ that “ superiority of rank/’ of which 
she had read so often in her favorite romances. 

“Thanks, thanks,” she stammered, coloring 
with pleasure, “ I shall be delighted — charmed — 
you are very good !” 

To Lena she added: “You will excuse me, 
I’m sure, Fraulein Schindler — I am greatly 
obliged to you, but — but — this is so interest- 
ing—” 

But Lena waited to hear no more ; almost 
blinded by tears of disappointment and rage, she 
rushed down the hill to her home. The indigna- 
tion of the actuary’s family was boundless. What 
if they had said harsh things against the beggar 
princess ? She deserved them. 

“ Suppose Frau Inger has got more money 
than we have,” angrily observed the mother. 
“We could be of more use to that silly girl than 


The Little Countess. 


172 

that fine lady who will never think of the little 
beggar after she goes back to the Residenz/’ 

“ 1 shouldn't trouble myself about Countess 
Halla if I were you," in a superior tone remarked 
the eldest and most censorious of the daughters. 

She has never yet been able to get on amicably 
with any one of her own sex — not even peaceful 
Minna Grunanger; is it likely, then, that this 
sudden friendship with a stranger will last long? 
The beggar countess is too unsympathetic; she 
is hard, cold as ice." 

But Fraulein Schindler forgot that the hard- 
est ice will melt in the sunshine ; or, perhaps 
she did not know that the warm sunlight of 
disinterested friendship had been shining all 
winter long on the haughty countess in her 
ruined castle. 

Meanwhile the countess, who had forgotten 
all about the offended Lena, was talking earn- 
estly with her companion. 

You see," she was saying, as they paused in 
the narrow doorway which had been cut for the 


Frau Bertha Btger. 


173 


convenience of foot passengers in one of the 
large gates, ‘‘you see, Frau Inger, I am a very 
lonely person; so much alone that it is no 
wonder 1 took forcible possession of you. The 
moment I looked at you I knew you were good 
and — honest. Besides, 1 — I have already heard 
of you,’' she added, with a slight blush. 

Frau Bertha’s face likewise reflected the sun- 
set glow, while her tremulous ringlets and the 
quivering bangles on her wrists betrayed her 
sudden agitation. 

“ How happy you make me !” she exclaimed, 
seizing Candide’s hands in both her own. “ I 
can guess who it was told you about me. I 
too, have heard of )'Ou — of your very clever 
mind — but — ” 

“But?” interrogated the countess, as Frau 
Bertha hesitated in confusion. 

“ I — I was afraid of you,” she confessed with 
an ingenuous laugh. “ I should never have 
ventured to intrude on you had you not asked 
me. Yes, I was really afraid of you — just as I 


174 


The Little Coitntess, 


am of your cousin when he is in a sarcastic 
humor. But isn’t he elegant? and what a heav- 
enly dancer he is !” she concluded, ecstatically 
clasping her hands. 

‘‘Ah? Can my cousin dance?” asked the 
countess. 

“Dance?” incredulously repeated the widow. 
“And you don’t know it?” 

“No, I didn’t know it,” coldly returned Can- 
dida. “ I cannot dance.” 

“What a pity?” compassionately murmured 
Frau Bertha, following her conductress, who led 
the way among the ruins in the court yard. “ 1 
dare say this is the portion of the castle Count 
Halla intends to restore?” she added, looking 
admiringly round. “ It will be very handsome.” 

“ I prefer the castle as it is,” curtly rejoined 
Candida. 

“Oh! do you?” in surprise queried Frau 
Inger. “But ruins are so — so very — untidy, 
you know. Of course,” she hastened to add. 
“ tastes differ; some people like ruins. Now, I 


Frau Bertha Inger. 


175 


prefer cheerful scenes — my youth was so sad,” 
she concluded with a comfortable sigh. 

My own was far from cheerful,” with a 
melancholy smile, observed Candide, and yet 
I prefer my gloomy ruins to the most animated 
scene. I am like those night creatures that 
cannot bear the sunlight — my conception of 
light is imperfect.' 

This speech was enigmatic to Frau Bertha, 
she therefore merely said — imagining that a 
consolatory reply would be the most appropri- 
ate : 

You are so young, so attractive, that you 
cannot fail to make an excellent marriage — that 
is — ” she suddenly remembered what Lena 
Schindler had told her — ‘‘ if your heart has not 
already yielded to an unfortunate attachment — ” 

‘‘ We will not discuss that subject,” interposed 
the countess with more hauteur. Tell me 
instead about Ostend, its attractions — and about 
the beautiful women who are there.” 

This was an alluring topic, and Frau Bertha 


The Little Countess, 


1 76 

at once began to enumerate the names of the 
perfectly charming people ” who had been 
so attentive and polite to her. Then followed 
descriptions of feminine toilets, Frau Bertha’s 
own, of course, eclipsing all the rest. While she 
thus discoursed, without any signs of weariness, 
Candide slowly walked beside her leading the way 
into the castle, and up to the grand saloon. The 
two now stood on the little balcony which over- 
hung the precipice, whither Candide had led her 
visitor to see the view. But Frau Inger was too 
deeply interested in her subject to notice the 
grandeur of the scene before her. 

Candide did not ask the names of any of the 
gentlemen who had paid court to Frau Bertha’s 
attractions ; she merely inquired about a young 
lady with close-cropped hair — a boyish looking 
young lady with inquisitive eyes.” 

Oh, didn’t I tell you her name ?” innocently 
queried the widow. Why, she is my most 
intimate friend. Her name is Kopp — Mary 
Kopp, from America. She writes such charming 


Frmt Bertha Inger. 


T77 

letters ! She and Count Halla met again in 
Rome last winter, and I should not be surprised 
if — ” she paused suddenly and bit her lip. 

“If what?’' impatiently questioned the coun- 
tess. 

“ Oh, I was merely going to remark that Miss 
Kopp might have something to do with the 
restoration of the castle. She is very rich, you 
know, and your cousin is quite attentive to her. 
Great heavens ! Countess Halla — do come off 
that balustrade,” she screamed, in her terror 
catching hold of Candide’s dress, and clinging 
to it. “Don’t sit there — please don’t! You 
make me dizzy. What if you should fall back- 
ward 1” 

“ The view is finer from up here,” answered 
Candide, who was now standing on the coping 
of the balustrade. “ Besides, if I were to lean 
forward this ” 

“ Oh ! For heaven’s sake !” shrieked the terri- 
fied Frau Inger, “ come down ! the stone under 


178 


The Little Countess. 


your foot is moving — come down ! — come 
down r' 

Her name is Kopp, did you say ?’' asked Can- 
dide with a strange, harsh laugh, unmindful of 
her companion’s terror. Kopp — Kopp — what 
a name for a Countess Halla ! Ha-ha-ha !” 

Help ! Help ! she is falling !” at the top of 
her voice shrieked the widow, clinging wildly 
to Candide’s skirts. Who knows what might 
have happened, had not two strong arms sud- 
denly caught the light form suspended over the 
dizzy chasm ? 

‘‘ Don’t be alarmed, said Lorenz 

Marten as he placed the countess safely on the 
balcony, and stepped back into the saloon. 

Our little countess is as active as a lizard ; she 
has a sure foot, and a head that never knows 
what giddiness is. We, who were her play- 
mates, are never startled by her little gymnastic 
feats.” 

'' Little gymnastic feats !” with pallid lips 
repeated Frau Bertha, pressing her plump hands 


Frau Bertha Ingei\ 


179 


against her heart. May my good angel keep 
me from ever asrain beholding an)^thing like 
them i” 

'' If you think the feat so dificult, I will repeat 
it, to show you that there is really no danger,'’ 
said Lorenz, with a melancholy attempt at a 
smile. 

''Pray — pray don’t!" cried the widow, her 
face blanching anew. " Gracious powers !’’ — 
sinking helplessly into a chair — " compared with 
such daring. Miss Kopp’s exercises are mere 
child’s play ! She will die of envy when I tell 
her.’’ 

Lorenz now explained what had brought him 
to the castle ; he had taken the liberty to come 
and ask the ladies to the funeral services of his 
grandfather in the village church the next morn- 
ing at ten o'clock, and to learn the gnadige Fratis 
wishes concerning his sister. 

Candide, who had not yet spoken, silently 
pointed to a chair, which he took, and, seated at 
a respectful distance from Frau Inger, appeared 


i8o 


The Little Countess. 


to listen attentively to that lady’s floweiy 
speeches. His brown eyes were fixed on her 
blooming face ; but his thoughts, his anxiety, 
were elsewhere — he was listening acutely to the 
quick, spasmodic breathing which came from the 
dark corner where Candide was seated. 

Into this circle after a while came Doctor 
Grunanger, who was surprised to find a stranger 
with his ‘‘ gold-child,” and when darkness 
approached, and Frau Bertha rose to return to 
the village, both Lorenz and the doctor offered 
to accompany her. The latter suggested a visit 
to the terrace before her departure, and while 
he was exhibiting the ‘‘attractions,” and rousing 
the “ remarkable echo ” among the ruins, Lorenz 
remained with Countess Halla. 

“ What would have happened to our little 
countess had I not come to the rescue?’’ he 
asked in a low voice. 

“ She would have betrayed herself — her folly,” 
was the reply in the same low tone. 

“You would have cast yourself into the 


Fi^atL Bertha Inger. 


i8i 


abyss?'' said the young man reproachfully. “ So 
trite and commonplace an end for so large a 
heart ! Don't say any more, little countess, they 
might hear you. Already some evil tongues 
have spoken unkindly of you to that kind lady." 

Candide startled violently. She did not speak, 
but walked forward and joined Frau Inger and 
the doctor. A few minutes later her visitors 
took leave. 

Was that the ‘‘active" countess — that weary- 
looking, languid girl who, with slow and heavy 
tread, halting at every step to gasp for breath, 
ascended the dark staircase, and groped her way 
back to the saloon? Yes, it was the “little 
countess," who looked with dazed, bewildered 
eyes around the spacious chamber, with its faded 
hangings, its mouldering remnants of a former 
splendor. .With tottering feet she walked to the 
antique table at the end of the room, and opened 
one of the secret drawers. It contained no 
more precious gems, no glittering stones — noth- 
ing but a small pocket album that held several 


i 82 


The Little Cotmtess. 


photographs. These Candide took out and 
arranged in a row on the polished table. They 
were the likenesses of women — a privia dofina in 
the costume of an African princess ; a danseuse in 
a graceful pose ; a Bavarian bar-maid in high- 
crowned cap and velvet bodice; and lastly, two 
ladies. In the one with the ringlets and the 
good-natured smile, Candide recognized Frau 
Inger. On the reverse side of this carte devisite 
was written in pencil: ‘‘25,000 per annum.*’ 
The photograph was that of a short-haired 
young lady, with a defiant smile and inquisitive 
eyes, “ Miss Kopp ” — Candide’s lips uncon- 
ciously formed the words as she turned the 
card to read on its back the pencilled figures 
“ 30,000.” 

It was quite dark when Anatole came in with 
the lamp, and found his mistress still sitting by 
the table with her eyes fixed on the photographs. 
She did not want any supper ; and when, toward 
midnight, the faithful old servitor peeped inquis- 
itively through the keyhole, she was still sitting 


Frau Bertha Biger 183 

there, staring at the pictures. Anatole grum- 
bled because of the senseless waste of oil — 
enough for two evenings had been uselessly 
burned ! 

When Minna Grunanger beheld Countess 
Halla at the funeral services of the old watchman 
the next morning, her surprise and indignation 
knew no bounds. Candide was accompanied by 
the lady from the Residenz, whose fabulous 
wealth was just then the chief subject of conver- 
sation in Hohneck. Frau Bertha on this partic- 
ular morning was looking her very best ; even 
Candide noticed how pretty she was, with her 
black lace veil coquettishly draped over her 
ringlets, and well-rounded cheeks rivalling the 
tints of the wild rose. 

The requiem began, and Lorenz sang as if 
inspired. Involuntarily Candide dropped to her 
knees when the tones of his truly magnificent 
voice filled the church ; while large tears fell 
unchecked from Frau Inger's lashes, and rolled 
over her cheeks. The rest of the congregation. 


The Little Countess, 


184 

however, seemed little impressed by the exquisite 
music ; they — especially the feminine portion — 
were too deeply interested in the occupants of 
the castle pew. 

When the ceremony was concluded, Frau 
Bertha parted reluctantly from Candide. Frau 
Schindler and her brood witnessed the cordial 
leave-taking between the two, and were deeply 
incensed. If Candide wanted to be peculiar, if 
she chose to be an unbelieving heathen, and to 
despise her fellow-creatures, why wasn't she 
true to her principles? Why, being an unbe- 
liever and a misanthrope, did she kneel in the 
presence of God, and publicly pretend friendliness 
toward one of her own sex? — and a stranger too 
at that ! Such inconsistency in any one was out- 
rageous ! 

In the meantime the subject of these critical 
observations was slowly ascending the road to 
the castle. She was crossing the bridge, when 
Lorenz Marten's voice arrested her steps. 

Little countess !'" he called breathlessly — he 


Fixate Bei^tha higer, 185 

had been running to overtake her — “ I want to 
say good-bye — I have decided to return at once 
to the Residenz. Frau Inger has asked me to 
escort her.’' 

Candide’s face expressed her surprise. 

Yes, little countess,” he went on, his face 
crimsoning under her questioning glance. The 
lady was gracious enough to invite me to accom- 
pany her — and hereafter she will not believe that 

« 

the grandson of a watchman would dare to lift 
his e3^es to a countess — to revere, to adore her 
above everything on earth !” 

Frau Inger has a great deal of money,” in an 
abstracted tone observed the countess, ignoring, 
if she had noticed, the ^^oung man’s earnest 
words and manner. 

I was not thinking of her money when I told 
her I thought she was the most amiable of her 
sex,” quickly responded Lorenz. ‘‘ No, little 
countess, my only desire was to shield you from 
slanderous tongues.” 

Renzi,” — Candide leaned wearily against the 


The Little Countess. 


1 86 

crumbling wall — ‘‘ Renzi, you and I are both 
very unhappy — you understand me, I think — but 
I am the unhappier. You are good — you can 
act with a wisdom, a prudence I do not possess. 
I thank you for the sacrifice you are making — 
you see I understand you ! — and for awakening 
in me the longing to behold Canaan’s peaceful 
streams. A drop of the heavenly moisture fell 
on my parched soul this morning when you 
began to sing ; and I knelt in reverence before 
Him whom I sought yesterday by my mad act 
to defy. But for you, Renzi, I would have 
ended my miserable existence. And now, let us 
talk about yourself; perhaps it may be to your 
advantage to win the favor of this generous 
widow, who — ” 

But Lorenz had turned abruptly away. 

** You mock me, little countess ” — he said in a 
low, pained tone. ^‘You mock me, because I 
boasted of a deed that I ought to have kept 
secret. You advise me to win the favor of this 
rich woman — you who despise riches, you are 


Fra 21 Bertha Inger, 187 

enduring hardships in order that I may learn 
to — ” 

No, no, my brave Renzi,'’ hastily interposed 
Candide, giving him her hand. I am not mock- 
ing you, nor do I despise riches. On the con- 
trary, since yesterday 1 feel that my cousin is 
right in his plans about the castle. The change 
must come sooner or later — why not now? I 
shall no longer oppose the inevitable. I only 
hope my consent may not be too late ! And 
now, Renzi, farewell. I hope you may be 
happy !” 

He kissed her hand, reverently, lingeringly ; 
then slowly released it and strode down the 
steep path. Candide continued her way; Ralf, 
who had been watching her from an overhanging 
rock, now sprang to her side. She lifted the 
faithful creature in her arms, and burying her 
face in his soft fur, whispered : 

We have no one but each other, my faithful 
Ralf ; it is our nature to be different from our 


i88 


The Little Countess, 


kind, and it will be a hard task to change one's 
nature. But, come what may, old Rail, we two 
will cling together, we two against all the 
world !" 




CHAPTER IX. 

AN ANONYMOUS LETTER. 

One beautiful spring morning Doctor Grun- 
anger rode up to the castle, holding carefully in 
front of him a little basket. 

'' Here my child,’' he called to Candide, who 
was promenading with Ralf in the garden. 

Here are the first strawberries of the season, 
and a letter from your cousin. I hope you may 
enjoy both ! Thanks, no ; I shall not come in 
to-day ; Seppel and I have a deal of work before 
us. May I hear first what the wanderer has to 
say ?” 

Candide opened the letter, glanced over it, 
and handed it to the doctor. It was very brief: 


The Little Countess, 


190 

Dear Candide : 

“ You may expect me day after to-morrow. 
In order that the evil tongues of Hohneck may 
not have anything more to gossip about, I shall 
stop at the hotel in the village — slander must not 
tarnish the name of a Countess Halla! 

Hastily, 

'' WiLBRAND.” 

Doctor,'* said Candide, laying her hand upon 
Seppel's mane, “ there are moments when I feel 
actually happy — when I feel confident that all 
will yet be well. I intend to think of you, and 
of Lorenz, and to try to be very, very reasonable 
and patient. A thousand sorrows bind me to 
Wilbrand. I only wish I too might always see 
the bright side of life ! I have a great mind to 
cast behind me my old self, and be happy like 
the rest of the world,” she concluded, smiling 
brightly up into the doctor's kindly face. 

Bravo ! my child !” he applauded. This 
blessed sunshine fills even my solemn little owl 
\yith bright thoughts. How delighted our trav- 


An Anojiynions Letter, 191 

eler will be to find obstinacy reformed ! Yes, yes, 
love can accomplish much, and — but,’' suddenly 
interrupting himself, and drawing the reins, ‘‘ I 
must be off. I haven’t another minute to spare. 
Adieu, my child.” 

Hitherto the idea of adorning herself or her 
surroundings, had never entered Candide’s head, 
but now she actually started Anatole and Doris 
by her energy. She arranged the furniture in a 
more artistic manner; filled long unused vases 
with flowers ; transformed her dingy sitting-room 
into a cheerful, attractive apartment. 

He would have told me had he chosen 
another,” she murmured, stroking the sympa- 
thetic Rail’s sleek coat, he would certainly have 
told me. When he sees all the improvements I 
have made — sees my tasteful gown, he will not 
repeat the cruel reproaches of that wretched, 
wretched farewell ! Ah, I wish he were already 
come !” 

A little later he came, handsome, fascinating 
as ever, but with a certain timidity as if he feared 


ig2 


l^Iie Little Countess. 


her reproaches. But Caiidide’s greeting ban- 
ished all doubts from his mind ; she met him with 
outstretched hands, with gladness in every fea- 
ture, every tone: '^Welcome, welcome, dear 
Wilbrand, welcome to your own !” 

It is needless to inquire after your health, 
Didi,” he returned, drawing her hand through 
his arm, and leading her into the house. '' Your 
winter must have been a pleasant one to leave 
you so fresh and blooming?” 

“ It was a very quiet one,” answered Candide, 
a feeling of dull disappointment succeeding the 
gladness of the first moment — something in her 
cousin's manner chilled her to the heart. Half- 
fearfull}^ half expectantly, she conducted him to 
the grand saloon. 

“ Why ! What does this mean ?” he exclaimed, 
halting abruptly on the threshold, and looking 
around the room. Candide's heart fell — his face 
betrayed anything but pleasure. 

‘‘Well, this is a change,” he continued in a 
tone that was almost a sneer. “Who would 


Alt Antony motes Letter, 


193 


have dreamed the matter-of-fact Countess Halla 
capable of effecting such an improvement ! And 
she herself! — Here, countess, let me have a look 
at you ! Ha, ha, ha ! who would have imagined 
that you — you ! — would ever condescend to 
adorn yourself !” 

Candide drew herself up with something of 
her old defiance, and surveyed her cousin in 
silence. 

‘‘ Too scornful to explain !" he exclaimed, add- 
ing with a shrug: Well, I dare say I deserve 

your contempt — 1 ought to have made my 
appearance before you something after the style 
of the returned prodigal — the penitent spend- 
thrift. Very well, hear my confession : I was 
reckless as usual, your diamonds — 

Candide interrupted him with an imperious 
gesture: The diamonds were your own; we 

did not divide the legacy,” she said quietly. 

‘‘ Not? And )^et I have no right to say what 
is to be done with this old rookery ? You claim 
sole ownership here when I want to improve the 


194 


The Little Countess. 


old place, and you defend your claim almost at 
sword's point !” 

The moment Candide had pictured to herself 
a thousand times was come ; she knew very well 
what she wanted to say to her cousin — Oh, yes, 
she knew very well, for had she not repeated the 
words, over and over again, a thousand times? 
And now, now that the long-wished-for moment 
was at hand, her lips refused to utter a sound, 
while the pressure around her throat threatened 
to strangle her. At last, she forced herself to 
say in a low, unsteady voice : 

‘AVilbrand, I — I want to ask your pardon — I 
want you to forgive me — I have done wrong 
in — ” 

Wilbrand sprang suddenly to her side, and 
seized her arm in a vice-like grasp. 

Then it is true, after all?” he cried, his eyes 
flaming, his face pallid with a savage fury. 

‘‘ What do you mean? What is true?” asked 
Candide, proudly flinging off his hand, and 
retreating a step. “ I only wanted to ask your 


195 


A 71 Aiio7iyi7toics Lette7\ 

pardon for opposing your wishes — for having 
prevented you from making an honest bargain. 
We need money.’' 

'‘Oh, yes, we need money,” with a sneering 
laugh, repeated Wilbrand. " Even genius 
requires bread.” 

" I don’t understand you — what do you mean ?” 
demanded the countess. 

" Mean ? Nothing, Countess Halla ; what could 
I mean ?” 

" If you still desire to sell the castle,” said 
Candide, in a weary tone, " I am willing to 
agree to any proposition you may make.” 

“Indeed? How very obliging you have 
become!” with maddening sarcasm retorted 
Wilbrand. “ Unfortunately your willingness 
to yield to my wishes comes post festimi. My 
friend of the post-house has bought the watch- 
man’s plot of ground, and will build his hotel 
there. However, I dare say now that you have 
got rid of your ancestor cult, you will not 
object to selling the funeral chapel for a bowl- 


196 


The Little Countess. 


ing-alley and dancing-hall — ” he laughed con- 
vulsively, as if shaken by inward spasms. 

“ Wilbrand, I insist on an explanation. Your 
words, your conduct are inexplicable,” again 
demanded the countess, whose self-control was 
giving place to rising anger. 

‘^You insist, do you, my fair cousin? I am 
charmed with your sudden practical sense, your 
newly developed talent. Were you illustrating, 
may I ask, the parable of the pearls and the 
swine, when you generously sacrificed to the 
operatic stage those priceless pearls — once the 
necklace of the fair and frail Mathildis ?” 

I sold the pearls in order that I might secure 
for old Marten a comfortable income until 
Lorenz has completed his musical education. 
Part of the money I invested for the benefit of 
Anatole and Doris.’' 

Wilbrand laid his hand for a moment over 
his eyes, while his chest heaved with sudden 
emotion. Then fixing his searching glance on 


All Anonymous Letter, 


197 


Candide’s pale face, he said in an unsteady 
voice : 

Unfortunately your noble act has been 
misconstrued. I received an anonymous letter 
which certainly does not credit you with so 
generous a deed — no woman, cousin Candide, 
can, with safety, disregard the rules of pro- 
priety.'’ 

And pray, what have I done to merit public 
criticism ?” in a cutting tone inquired the 
countess, her eyes gleaming ominously. 

Among other accusations, they say you, with 
your own hands, helped adorn old Marten’s 
coffin ; that you, who refused to attend a 
requiem mass for your own grandmother; you, 
who for years have not entered a church, were 
at the old watchman’s funeral, and publicly 
knelt in your pew while Lorenz Marten was 
singing. Are these accusations true?” 

“ They are,” calmly responded the countess. 

‘‘Ah ! they are? Then I am sorry to tell you 
that your lover is false to you ; he is seen daily 


The Little Countess. 


198 

in company with a wealthy widow at the 
Residenz. The widow is perfectly infatuated 
with the youthful Orpheus whose personal 
attractions are as fascinating as his voice, and 
who doubtless laughs in his sleeve over his con- 
quest of the aristocratic, but unsophisticated 
Countess Halla/' 

Mute, and as immovable as a statue, Candide 
stood before her accuser. 

Have you nothing to say in defence of 3"Our 
conduct?’* wrathfully inquired the count. 

Nothing — nothing, if you do not propose to 
defend me — *’ was the reply, given in a monoto- 
nous voice. 

Humph ! Do you expect me to twist the 
musical neck of your faithless lover?** 

In wordless fury, Candide turned quick as a 
flash, lifted the tall majolica vase from its 
pedestal by her side, and made a movement as 
if to dash it on the floor — the next instant a 
burning blush covered her face and neck — a 
burning blush of shame, The vase was carefully 


A?i AiioriyinoHs Letter, 199 

replaced, and not a tremor betrayed her violent 
agitation when she spoke : 

Further argument is useless ; you may 
decide as you see fit about the castle, the chapel 
— everything belonging to Hohneck. Flere, take 
back your ring ; I am going away from here — I 
am going to be married/' 

Wilbrand started as if shot, and grasped the 
back of the nearest chair to steady himself. 

Married ? — im — impossible !” he repeated, 
gasping painfully. Then, with a mighty effort 
controlling himself, he added : Don't take 

this instant step, Didi ; you know how ardently 
I love you — I will forget — I will forgive all if — " 
“ I don't want your forgiveness, Count Halla," 
she interrupted with sudden fire. 

'' Then this is really the end? Is this your 
last word ? — O, Didi, reflect — remember that 
the happiness of our future depends on your 
decision now ; remember that 1 — ” 

Spare your breath, Wilbrand. I have 
decided," coldly interrupted the countess. 


200 


The Little Countess. 


For an instant two pairs of angry eyes 
flashed defiance toward each other, then : 

Fool that I was!” bitterly exclaimed Wil- 
brand. ‘‘ Fool — idiot ! to imagine that one 
woman was different from the rest of her faith- 
less sex 1 It was a last poetic fancy of my con- 
fiding heart. I might have guessed that a 
daughter of Eve, the descendant of the faith- 
less Mathildis, would be true to her nature ! — 
Well — ” drawing a long breath, and tossing the 
hair from his temples, at least we can cry 
quits — your folly, Didi, matches mine — Ha, ha ! 
to think that you, you the unapproachable Coun- 
tess Halla — Ha, ha, ha 1” 

There was no response, no answering smile to 
his mirthless laughter — nothing about the silent 
form before him betrayed that his words had 
been heard. 

Have you no message to send to the Resi- 
denz?” after waiting in vain for her to speak, 
asked the count in a meaning tone. 

Candide merely shook her head. 


An Anonymous Letter, 


201 


''Then farewell, Didi; may your good star 
never desert you ! It might have been different 
with us if — Heaven knows, Didi, 1 would rather 
have lost anything else — everything but you — 
farewell !” 

Toward evening a little goat herd from the 
mountain brought a note to Doctor Grunanger. 
It was from the castle, and contained but two 
words : 

" Please come.’' 

Not many minutes afterward he entered the 
Jittle sitting-room at the castle, and without 
waiting to regain his breath — he had walked 
very quickly up the hill — gasped : 

" Well — here — I am ; what — is — the matter?’* 

"Do you trust me entirely. Doctor?” asked 
Candide looking up into his face. 

" Entirely — wholly.” 

" Then please marry me at once !” 

The doctor was, to say the least, rather 
startled by this unexpected request ; he sighed, 


202 


The Tittle Cottntess. 


and passed his hand twice, thrice, across his 
eyes. 

‘‘ Come here, my child,'* he said, after a 
moment's pause. 

She rose and came to his side. He laid his 
arm around her shoulders, and drew her head 
down until it rested on his breast. 

So you two fire-heads have had another 
battle?" he said in a fatherly tone. What says 
old Johann Fischart? 

^ Zween harte stein, 

Mahlen grob nicht fein !' 

1 feared as much, my gold-child ! You Hallas 
were not created for family love." 

Oh, you are cruel, cruel !" cried Candide, 

All my life long have I had any other thought 
but the honor of our family ? Have I ever 
thought of myself? of my own happiness?" 

There — there!" soothingly interrupted the 
doctor, tenderly smoothing her hair, you mis- 
understand your old friend, Like a cat, you love 


The jluony))ious Letter, 


203 


your house more than you do its occupants. 
You love your noble falcon, and object to his 
being true to his nature ; you would prefer to 
have your bird of prey adopt the habits of the 
golden pheasant, or some other well-behaved 
fowl. True love, my dear child, such as mine 
for you, does not find fault, does not censure. 
It fosters, cherishes what it holds dear; protects 
and supports the tender plant it cares for — not 
that the plant may grow more attractive in the 
eyes of love ; but that it may become daily more 
perfect in the sight of the Heavenl}^ Father.” 

“I did not find fault with Wilbrand. I did 
not censure him,” remonstrated Candide in a low 
tone. But he — he no longer trusts me ; he 
prefers to believe those who falsely accuse me, 
and do not even sign a name to their vile 
slanders.” 

‘‘The devil fly away with the cowardly liars !” 
with angry emphasis exclaimed the doctor. 
“ What have they been saying again about my 
gold-child ?” 


204 


The Little Countess. 


“ Oh, don’t ask me to repeat it — only take me 
away from here,’’ in desperation begged Candide. 

I want to leave this house — he may restore, or 
sell it, anything he chooses, only let me be 
spared another interview with him !” 

“And in your hour of trouble you come to the 
old doctor?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ You do well ! And now, dear child, can you 
guess what I was thinking as 1 came up the hill?” 

She shook her head. 

“ Of course not ! Well, I will tell you : I was 
thinking about buying the castle myself.” 

“ Oh ! ” she was beginning in a glad voice, but 
checked herself and added, “ you are only 
jesting, of course. What could you do with 
these crumbling walls? You would not keep a 
hotel, or turn the castle into a hospital.” 

The doctor laughed heartily. 

“ See, see !” he cried ; “ already you are inquir- 
ing quite like an ordinary mortal, what will be the 
financial result. Well, that is more downright 


The Anonymoits Leftei\ 


205 


common sense than I expected from so silly a 
child ! Really, my dear, you must allow me to 
kiss your hand,” he concluded, gallantly suiting 
the action to the word. 

‘‘ What could you do with this heap of 
stones?” again interrogated Candide, blushing 
with embarrassment. 

‘‘A great many useful things, my dear; for 
instance, they would build the new railway 
station, and — ” 

But how would you get them down this 
steep hill?” interrupted the countess, with in- 
creasing interest and animation. The cost of 
transportation would, I fear, be more than the 
stones are worth.” 

Again the doctor’s cheery laugh resounded 
through the room. He laid his hands on Can- 
dide’s shoulders, and turning her so that he 
might look squarely into her eyes, said : 

am very glad the hill is so steep; it will 
make the transportation all the easier. We will 
have a sort of chute to slide the stones to the 


2o6 


The Little Cozmtess, 


foot — see! And we’ll tear down the crumbling 
wall around the court and let in the sunshine ; 
and we’ll have a beautiful garden that will grow 
all sorts of pretty flowers, and useful things, 
too! And now, what has the countess to say to 
my plans, eh ?” 

They are splendid — splendid!” with beaming 
face responded the countess. And shall we 
have a new bridge, too?” 

Shall not we! And the useless babbler down 
yonder — ” pointing to the brook at the bottom of 
the ravine — '^wasting its existence tumbling 
over the rocks, shall be taught to be of use ; for 
we’ll build a dam; and in it we’ll have trout — 
delicious mountain trout ! And I shall teach 
Anatole how to feed and take such care of 
them that very soon the old fossil will love the 
speckled beauties as if they were his own chil- 
dren. He shall have a comfortable little watch 
house on the bank of the fish pond, where he can 
have a stove to warm his old bones in the winter 
when he goes down to feed his family.” 


The Anonymoics Letter, 


207 


Oh ! my dear friend, how good — how very 
good you are! You think of everything.” 

Humph !” grunted the doctor, “ thinking is 
easy enough ; anybody can think ; it's the doing 
that counts — the doing, my dear. But you 
haven’t heard all my plans. When the water 
freezes in our trout pond we’ll fill the ice 
house — ” 

‘^The ice house?” wonderingly interrupted 
Candide. 

''Yes; we’ll blast a good-sized cave in the 
cliff out yonder; won’t that be a famous ice 
cellar? Ha 1 just let anybody tell me I’m not a 
man of business 1” he exclaimed, with a mock 
ferocious air. " I intend to astonish that dolt of 
a post-keeper with my financial success ! And 
now, my child of gold, having made a parade of 
all my clever ideas, let me feel your pulse — your 
physician wants to know how you are.” 

'‘Oh, I am better; I am quite well,” she 
exclaimed gaily. 

"That is good! Now I am going to ask a 


2o8 


The Little Countess. 


favor : Minna — my poor, weak-hearted old sister 
has bitterly repented of her sins against you, and < 
is anxious to prove her penitence by a silk-gown 
visit — so to speak. She desires to call on you in | 
all the splendor of her best clothes, if you will j 
receive her — you consent ? very good — thanks. | 
Now, my dear, you know how very fussy and 
fastidious about trifles the poor old soul is ? \ 

Well, when she comes up here, 1 want her to j 
find a setting worthy of my jewel — so, I shall \ 
send up, to-morrow morning, several workmen 
with willing hands but no heads, whom you 
must supply with brains — that is, you will have 
to tell them just what to do. They will plant 
flowers, and do whatever is necessary in the 
house — only don’t let them waste any time ! 
workmen will shirk if you don’t keep an eye on 
them. What says my little fox ? is she agreed ? 
Without your consent, Candide, nothing shall 
be touched, so speak out?” 

'' Whatever desire shall be done,” answered 
the countess, grateful tears shining in her eyes. 


The Anonymotis Letter, 


209 


Thank you, my darling. And now, God keep 
you ! 1 must go. Take good care of yourself ; 

and to-night, before you go to sleep, give one 
kind thought to that rough old customer, Doctor 
Grunanger.” 




CHAPTER X. 

MISS MARY KOPP. 

On the ninth day of June, at eleven o’clock 
in the morning, the Hohneck Weekly was con- 
ceived. Fully equipped it sprang, like Minerva 
from the brain of Jove, from the hoary cranium 
of the village apothecary, who, at the afore- 
mentioned hour, swung himself on his leathern 
office stool, and with enviable sagacity sketched 
the plan and the prefatory address of the future 
Weekly.” The introduction was elaborate 
and instructive ; its most telling phrases were 
underlined with red ink, its — but we will not 
weary the reader with details ; enough to say that, 
often and ably as the subject had been handled 
before, never, in the memory of the oldest 
citizen of Hohneck, had it been so ably treated 


Miss Maiy Kopp, 


21 I 


as in the present instance by the apothecary and 
embryo editor. Long afterward that worthy, 
in a moment of confidence over a bottle of wine, 
informed a friend that the idea of the '' Weekly' 
had entered his brain after a conversation with a 
commercial traveler who was in cosmetics and 
perfumes.’' 

‘‘ Articles of this sort are never inquired for 
in my shop,” said the apothecary to the com- 
mercial man who had called with samples of his 
wares. 

Then advertise them,” suggested the com- 
mercial traveler. 

The apothecary blushed ; he was ashamed of 
his cradle, of his native town, which contained 
no public organ save those belonging to the 
patriarchs and — if we may coin a word — to the 
matriarchs of the village. Of course the more 
youthful citizens, and citizenesses also possessed 
tongues ; but they generally twittered as the 
parent birds chirped. 

Inexperienced journalists will learn with bene- 


212 


The Little Cotintess, 


fit how, on the following da}^ (the traveling 
perfumer exhaled through Hohneck on the 
eighth day of June), the germ of the Weekly'' 
was developed. 

The apothecary was preparing, from various 
ingredients — chiefly ground raisin stems and 
sugar — a jar of Malaga, when his youngest burst 
into the laboratory, breathless, hatless, exclaim- 
ing : 

Father ! — father ! a live female Moor is 
down at the hotel. The street's full of people 
waiting to see her ! 1 expect there won’t be any 

school to-day — because none of the boys will 
want to study with a live Moor in town ?” 

The apothecary was washing his hands pre- 
paratory to going to the shop door, when his 
eldest daughter rushed in : 

Papa — papa ! what do you think ? A real 
negress dressed all in white ! She is a slave, and 
belongs to the lady who came with Count von 
Halla. The people say there’s a menagerie com- 
ing ; that the negro woman’s mistress, who has 


Mzss Maiy Kopp, 


213 


short hair like a boy, sticks her head into the 
lion’s mouth, and twists a big snake around her 
body — and she looks as if she could do it, too !” 

The apothecary was hastily drying his hands 
on the shop towel when his wife appeared : 

Well, husband, that old goose. Doctor Grun- 
anger will find that he has been reckoning without 
his host ! It is all up with his grand schemes ! 
An Indian princess has arrived, and is going to 
buy the castle, because Count Halla has made her 
believe all sorts of wonderful tales about it. The 
post-keeper, who just went by, says it is perfectly 
outrageous for the count to tell such stories 
about Hohneck ; and that a stop must be put to it 
if he himself has to take up a pen to do it !” 

The apothecary put on his hat and was step- 
ping into the street when his second daughter 
bounced against him : 

They’re going up to the castle, papa ! The 
black woman and the dog are walking behind. 
Some people say the dog is a dwarf lion — every- 
body is talking about them, and no wonder! 


214 


T/ie Little Countess. 


Such things have not been seen in Hohneck 
since it was built !’* 

The apothecary went back to his laboratory, 
hung up his hat, mounted the leather covered 
stool, and, looking very serious and important — 
as became the man who understood the age and 
its demands — evolved from his brain the plan of 
the Hohneck Weekly. The germ planted by the 
commercial traveler had developed and borne 
fruit. 

On that same eventful day, the warm sunshine 
forced its way into every corner and crevice of 
the old court-yard up at the castle, where already 
a number of improvements had been made. The 
plank bridge had been widened, and was now 
guarded on either side by an ornamental baluster. 
The footpath to the main entrance, instead of 
meandering crookedly among the ruins, now 
described a smooth, graceful curve from the 
gate, around the tower to the steps ; and was, 
moreover, quite wide enough for two persons to 


Afzss Alary Kopp, 


215 


walk comfortably side b}^ side, vines clambered 
over the walls and hung their festoons over 
unsightly apertures. 

Candide had mounted a ladder that was leaned 
against the tower, to fasten a branch of ivy, 
when a clattering of hoofs on the bridge 
announced Seppel’s approach. He was riderless, 
as frequently happened when the doctor wished 
to spare his steed, and when Candide called to 
him, the sagacious little beast halted under the 
ladder, and with a cheerful neigh seemed to 
return the young girhs salutation. Usually 
something for the castle’s mistress was fastened 
to the pony’s saddle; to-day it was a bundle of 
climbing plants, the stems of which were twisted 
together like a rope. Under the twine, which 
held the plants together, was a pencilled note 
addressed to Candide. 

Take your heart well in hand, dear child. 
W. is coming with a purchaser for the castle — a 
lady. Already they are on their way — let them 
see that you are brave. Be careful! Send 


The Little Coimtess. 


216 

Seppel back.’’ Like one in a dream Candide 
untied the plants from the pony’s saddle, went 
into the kitchen to fetch a piece of bread for 
him, and to order Anatole to dress himself in his 
best livery. Then she gave Seppel his lunch ; 
he ate it from her hand, from time to time 
rubbing his nose against her right shoulder, 
while Ralf, who was perched on her left, looked 
jealously on. A flock of pigeons that had been 
domesticated in an upper chamber of the tower, 
flew from their elevated lodgings, and fluttered 
cooing around the crumbs which fell on the 
ground at Candide’s feet.” 

Suddenly Ralf arched his back, and the next 
instant a shrill bark startled the pigeons from 
their« repast and sent them scurrying in alarm 
back to the tower, while Seppel nervously 
pricked up his ears and pawed the ground. 

‘‘ Is Countess von Halla at home ?” in her curt 
tones inquired Miss Kopp. Take this card to 
lier, and say that I desire a few moments’ con- 
versation on business matters.” 


A//ss Mai'y Kopp. 217 

Candide glanced down at her simple black 
dress, then toward Wilbrand, who stood several 
paces behind the fair American — thanks to the 
thoughtful doctor, she was prepared for this new 
trial ! 

Countess Halla does not receive visitors,” 
she said in a clear, calm voice. But the servant 
will take your card.” Then to Anatole, who at 
that moment appeared: '^Take this card to 
Countess Halla's sitting-room,” she added, and 
turned immediately toward Seppel. A light 
touch on the croup sent him trotting toward the 
gate, while Candide ascended the ladder to 
resume her work, 

‘‘ The new building ought to stand here,” she 
heard Wilbrand say to his companion. “The 
terrace will be the most suitable place for the 
bath-houses. That outer wall, as well as the ruin 
of the old palace, must come down.” 

Here, for the first time his glance was directed 
sharply toward Candide ; but she was standing 
lightly on one of the lower rungs of the ladder, 


2i8 


The Little Countess, 


and was hammering so persistently at a refrac- 
tor}^ nail that his words had evidently escaped 
her. 

The negress sat cowering in a sunny corner of 
the court, her dull eyes fixed with an absent 
gaze on the scene below. Miss Kopp now 
wended her way among the heaps of stones, 
ahlting now and then to peep through a crevice 
in the wall, or to turn and look critically at the 
castle. 

'' Where is the garden you spoke of ?” she 
asked, after a seemingly satisfactory inspection 
of the court. 

Wilbrand, after a second glance toward the 
industrious worker among the vines, led the way 
to the marble steps, of which only remnants of 
the time-discolored stone remained. He felt a 
choking sensation in his throat when he beheld 
the tasteful improvements which had been made 
in the garden ; and hoped that his cousin would 
have disappeared when they returned to the 
court-yard. But she was still there — a few 


Jf/ss Mary Kopp. 


219 


rounds higher up on the ladder, leading hither 
and thither, now on this side, now on that in the 
old graceful fashion he remembered so well. 
Of what was she made? Even this last most 
cruel insult fell harmlessly on her ! 

'' Who are you f demanded Miss Kopp, halt- 
ing at the foot of the ladder and fixing her 
inquisitive glance on the countess. 

The chatelaine,’' quietly replied Candide. 

Then you can show us the castle, can’t you ? 
I dare say the countess will not object to let a 
purchaser see it before buying ?” 

Without a word, Candide swung from the 
ladder, and motioning Miss Kopp to follow, 
walked swiftly toward the door. 

White sand was scattered on the floor in the 
entrance hall ; inexpensive vases stood in the 
niches which had once held rare statues. And 
a straw mat of neat pattern lay at the foot of the 
staircase. They were but simple attempts to 
give the dingy walls a homelike air, but they 


220 


The Little Countess, 


were successful ; never before had the old 
place looked so comfortable, so inviting. 

Candide’s sitting-room was also visited. Here 
the greatest transformation had taken place : 
an awning shaded the balcony, which was filled 
with blooming plants ; the furniture sported 
gay chintz covers. Books and magazines were 
scattered about ; and a sewing basket stood on 
a little table near the window. 

After this cosy nook, the rooms which fol- 
lowed appeared all the more desolate. Miss 
Kopp’s critical glance surveyed the antique fur- 
niture in the princess’ bed-room ; the huge tent- 
bed with its royal crest on the carved head- 
board ; the marble toilet-table — but her keen 
eyes failed to see the flush which, for an instant, 
dyed Count Wilbrand’s face, when his cousin, 
with a significant expression, let her hand rest 
for a moment on the spot where the silver laver 
used to stand. 

Not a word was spoken until they were again 
in the corridor. 


Afiss Mary Kopp. 


22 1 


Whose room is this one ?” demanded Miss 
Kopp, as Candide was hastily passing the door 
of her own sleeping apartment. 

'‘Countess Halla’s bed-room,” she replied, 
stopping because she was compelled to do so by 
her inquisitor’s restraining hand. 

“ I should like to see all the rooms,” said the 
American, with a challenging glance. 

Candide fearlessly returned it ; and for an 
instant the two young women measured each 
other like a pair of enraged walkyries ; the next, 
Candide turned the key, and flung open the 
heavy door. 

It was a spacious, wainscoted chamber, scan- 
tily furnished. An old fashioned chest of drawers, 
capped by a tall clock, a narrow, simple bed with 
a woolen cover ; a wooden table on which stood 
a common earthen-ware toilet service — one 
might have imagined the room to be the retreat 
of a nun, had there been visible anywhere the 
symbol of her profession ; but the little frame 


222 


The Little Countess, 


hanging above the bed, contained only the like- 
ness of a fair-haired boy with a dog. 

Miss Kopp’s eyes flashed from this picture 
toward Count Halla, who was standing just out- 
side the open door. She did not speak, but 
walked toward him, and, as he stepped to one 
side, passed into the corridor. 

At the head of the staircase she stopped, 
turned brusquely toward Candide, who was fol- 
lowing slowly, and said — with ill-concealed 
irritation : 

You need not try any longer to deny your 
identity. Countess Halla ; the family likeness 
betrays you.’’ 

I have not tried to deny that I am the Coun- 
tess Halla,” calmly returned Candide. 

“ Do you always receive unwelcome visitors in 
this fashion ?” 

Miss Kopp’s irritation was increasing. 

Your visit is not to me. I am not a part of 
the marketable appurtenances of Hohneck 
castle.” 


Afzss Mary Kopp, 223 

“ But suppose I came not as a purchaser of 
your castle, but with the intention of becoming 
a member of your family — what then?’’ asked 
Miss Kopp with a malicious smile. 

Candide’s hand closed convulsively around the 
baluster rail; but her manner was as composed 
as before, and her voice quite as calm, as she 
answered : 

'' In that case I should refuse to see you.” 

And why, pray ?” 

Because — because you and I are so differ- 
ent.” 

“ Indeed ? And wherein do we differ. Coun- 
tess Halla ?” 

In everything ; but chiefly in our ideas con- 
cerning this castle ; you wish to found here a 
new, strange world in which you may appear 
great, while / defend this the only spot on earth 
that acknowledges my greatness.” 

''Pah! you play with phrases, countess,” inso- 
lently retorted Miss Kopp. 


224 


The Little Coimtess, 


“ And 3 ^ou with human hearts,” rejoined 
Candide. 

Miss Kopp shrugged her shoulders. 

She who can does so, countess ; and the woman 
who succeeds in making men her playthings 
learns to despise them as they deserve. Come, 
count, your arm ; it was my desire to meet with 
a new sort of pride — an ascetic pride, so to 
speak ; and my wish has been gratified. 1 can 
now write an instructive brochure^ whose subject 
will be your haughty cousin — the unapproacha- 
ble chatelaine, whose golden hair is her finest 
mantle; whose flashing eyes are her only jewels, 
and who depends on her ancestors for her daily 
bread ! Ha, ha ! really these old walls are mak- 
ing me quite poetic. But come, count, else we 
shall miss our dinner. Your castle pleases me — 
I shall buy it.” 

Perhaps had Candide exhibited less indiffer- 
ence, less hauteur ; had her pride not appeared 
so invulnerable, Wilbrand would not have 
carried his revenge to these extreme bounds. 







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A//ss Mary Kopp. 


225 


But his cousin's silence, her composure, exasper- 
ated, maddened him. Scarcely master of him- 
self, he seized Miss Kopp’s hand, and, half-turning 
toward Candide, forced himself to say : 

No, Mary, my cousin is right. Hohneck 
must not be sold ; it must remain the possession 
of a Halla. I shall give it to you with my name, 
and some time, when the old walls have been 
restored to their former splendor, this young 
girl, our cousin, will be glad to call you her 
friend, and — " 

‘‘ Never !" with pallid lips gasped Candide — 
this last most cruel thrust had completely dis- 
armed her. 

Don’t look so horrified, my lovely countess,” 
sneered Miss Kopp. I don’t intend to claim 
the heart which I am convinced belongs wholly 
to you. Oh, no ; I am not a sentimental German 
— though my father was one of your nation. I 
am not one of these simple madchen who consider 
love an indispensable adjunct to marriage. 1 
desire to enter the wedded state, simply because 


226 


The Little Countess. 


a married woman has more privileges than a 
spinster. All men are alike indifferent to me ; 
but Count Halla happens to possess the qualifi- 
cations necessary to an amusing husband. 
Besides/’ — with a significant shrug of her 
shapely shoulders — he has a title to sell.” 

Then in a business-like tone she added, turning 
to Wil brand : 

‘^We can decide next week on the terms of 
our bargain. In the meantime I shall confer 
with the architect you recommended ; and you 
may make arrangements for our marriage. 
Don’t forget, pray, that I detest all unnecessary 
ceremony.” 

Before Wilbrand could reply, Candide sud- 
denly flung herself on her knees before him. 

“Wilbrand — cousin!” she cried, lifting her 
clasped hands beseechingly toward him, 
“ don’t sell yourself in this dreadful manner — 
don’t sell your honor — the honor of the last 
Halla !” 


Afzss Mary Kopp, 


227 


With an angry imprecation, Wilbrand thrust 
her to one side. 

‘‘Don’t give yourself any trouble about my 
honor, countess ; but attend to your own — 
unless art has already reconciled you for its 
loss !” 

Candide did not hear Miss Kopp’s sneering 
farewell ; she did not see how that independent 
young woman with an insolent gesture repulsed 
the arm Count Halla offered to conduct her 
down the staircase. She saw nothing, heard 
nothing, for a heavy mist closed around her, a 
strange rushing noise filled her ears, and ren- 
dered her oblivious to all sights and sounds. 

“ My child of gold ! My heart’s darling ! My 
poor wounded dove — what have they done to 
you ?” were the words which fell tenderly on 
Candide’s ear when she awoke from the death- 
like swoon. She opened her eyes wearily, fear- 
fully, and looked up into the alarmed face of her 
faithful friend. 


228 


The Little Countess, 


You— you — will not — cast me off?” she asked 
with quivering lips. 

''Cast you off, my heart of gold? Never!” 
he replied, assuringly, tenderly stroking her 
hair, while Doris held a cup of tea to her lips. 

" I did as you bade me she whispered, when 
Doris was gone. " I took my heart in my hand 
— but — but I was tried so sorely ! It was so 
hard to be brave when — when — ” 

" Yes, yes,” soothingly interposed the doctor. 
" I know how it is ; there are some things that 
even the bravest cannot endure. Even I, your 
old adopted father, have learned that!” 

" Adopted father ?” repeated Candide, looking 
at him with a questioning dread in her eyes. 

" Why, yes, until to-day have not I been your 
adopted father ?” 

" But next week when that terrible Amer- 
ican with her pitiless eyes begins her reign 
here? What will become of me if you too cast 
me off?” 

She half, lifted herself from the pillow, and 


Jlfiss Mary Kopp. 


229 


leaning on her elbow, looked despairingly after 
the doctor, who had walked abruptly to the win- 
dow. He was strangely moved, and allowed 
several seconds to pa^s before he answered : 

‘‘ Don’t ask me now, dear child,” he said, com- 
ing back to her side, and forcing himself to 
speak with his usual composure. Only trust 
me, and believe me when 1 tell you that you are 
dearer to me than my own life — that your 
happiness has long been, and always shall be, my 
first thought.” 

A long quivering sigh, as she fell back on the 
pillow, seemed to remove a dead weight from 
her heart. 

‘‘Thank you — thank you,” she murmured, 
“ lay your hand on my head. Doctor — Ah ! that 
is so quieting. I believe I am really tired !” 

The day after her visit to the castle. Miss 
Kopp called on Frau Inger at the Residenz. 
Liesi Marten, who had been transformed into a 
trim little house-maid, had so ingratiated her- 


The Little Countess, 


230 

self into the favor of her indulgent mistress, that 
she shared with the indispensable French maid 
the management of Frau Bertha's domestic 
affairs. Indeed the widow frequently declared 
that she should not be able to get on without 
the ‘‘ dear impetuous child of nature and you 
may be sure that the dear impetuous child took 
good care that her mistress should not learn 
how to dispense with her valuable services. She 
became daily more impertinent and overbearing 
toward those whom it pleased her to consider 
her inferiors ; and adapted herself to her new 
role with a cleverness that would have aston- 
ished those members of the ‘‘ Women's Indus- 
trial League " who had doubted her abilities. 

It was Liesi, in her coquettish housemaid’s 
cap who received Miss Kopp, and conducted her 
to the houdoir, where Frau Inger, in her latest, 
if not most becoming neglige, awaited the visitor. 

What a pleasant surprise !” cried the widow, 
cordially extending both hands. I am so glad 
vou are come ! now you can go with me to the 


Miss Mary Kopp, 


231 


concert this evening. The young artist about 
whom you have read so much in the papers — he 
is a native of Hohneck — is going to make his 
first appearance in public ; and I am so much 
interested in him — indeed everybody is talking 
about him — his progress has been most remark- 
able ! He is my little Liesi’s brother, you 
know,” she added ingeniously ; then, as her face 
flushed under Miss Kopp’s keen eye, she quickly 
changed the subject ; but do tell me how you 
are? and — ” playfully tapping her visitor's arm 
— '‘how is our friend the count?” 

“ I came to invite you to my marriage next 
Thursday at Hohneck,” in a matter-of-fact tone 
returned Miss Kopp — “ I want you to give away 
the bride to our friend the count !” 

“ Really ? How very interesting ! I congrat- 
ulate you with all my heart ! Of course I shall 
come to the wedding ; I am always charmed to 
see my friends happy.” 

“ Happy ?” with a shrug echoed Miss Kopp ; 
“you talk like a school-girl, Frau Inger. Pray 


232 


The Little Countess. 


what is your understanding of the word ‘ happi- 
ness ' 

Why happiness is — happiness — is — ” help- 
lessly stammered Frau Bertha, why what else 
is it but to love some one dearly — boundlessly, 
and to be so loved in return.” 

Miss Kopp’s lips curled with a contemptuous 
smile : '' How old are you, my dear?” she asked 

with her accustomed brusqueness. 

« I — the sudden inquiry evidently embar- 
rassed the fair widow — 1 — I am not young any 
more — how old would you take me to be?” with 
a playful smile. 

Reckoning your years by your experience I 
should take you to be yet in your ‘ teens.* It 
is experience that ages one, not years.*’ 

Frau Bertha smiled, and shook her ringlets ; 
the American’s reply flattered her. 

Will you come with me to the concert ?” she 
asked, and afterward to a little supper I am 
going to give in honor of the singer’s success ? 


Miss Mary Kopp, 233 

If Count Haifa would care to accompany you, 
I should — ” 

‘‘ I don't want him," bluntly interposed the 
count's fiance, ‘‘I detest lovers' toasts and all 
that sort of rubbish. No, I shall come alone or 
not at all." 

Thanks, Lo — Herr Marten, I mean — " she 
corrected with a becoming blush — '‘will be 
charmed to meet you, I know. Must you really 
go so soon?" — as her visitor rose. " Then 
revoir ; my carriage will call for you at half-past 
seven. We shall have plenty of time before the 
concert begins for you to tell me all about your 
plans for tjie future." 

" They are soon told," laughed Miss Kopp, 
halting in the door. " I intend to restore 
Hohneck castle according to a plan of my own ; 
and when I tire of building, 1 shall travel — to 
— Siberia, Africa — wherever fancy leads !" 

" Ha, ha, just wait, my dear !" returned Frau 
Inger, also laughing, but with a more mirthful 
sound, and shaking her plump finger at her 


234 


The Little Countess, 


visitor. Domestic cares will soon put an end to 
traveling projects." 

Miss Kopp merely elevated her brows, smiled 
incredulously, and passed into the corridor. 

Frau Inger was in a delicious state of excite- 
ment. Fully one hour was spent in deliberating 
whether she should wear a superb gown of sea- 
green satin, or one of sky-blue silk ; and when, at 
last she decided in favor of the former, she began 
to trouble her brain with delightful fears for 
poor dear Lorenz," whose incomparable voice a 
critical public was to hear that night for the 
first time. Despondent one moment, the next 
she would indignantly upbraid herseli for dar- 
ing to doubt that the concert would be a 
brilliant success. Musical critics who had 
heard the new singer in private, asserted that 
his voice, although phenomenal in scope, lacked 
expression — a deficiency, Frau Inger maintained, 
that certainly could not be objected to, as clear, 
even tones were surely more soothing to the 
senses, as well as more aesthetic and classical. 


Miss Mary Kopp. 


235 


than notes expressing fire, and all sorts of 
uncomfortable passions! 

Resplendent in sea-green satin, the dehitante's 
fair champion repaired at an unusually early 
hour to her stall in the front row at the opera 
house. When the orchestra began, Miss Kopp, 
who occupied a seat beside Frau Inger, felt her 
neighbor’s elbow quiver with agitation. And 
now the eventful moment was at hand. The 
overture was concluded amid the plaudits of the 
numerous audience, and every eye was turned 
toward the door which was to admit the singer. 
The accompanist came forward, seated himself 
at the piano and arranged his notes — who, at 
some period of his or her life, has not shared the 
excitement of a*' first appearance?” — that first 
step which is to lead either to fame or to failure. 
Cest le premier pas qui coute is indeed a solemn 
truth. 

Those of the audience who were not per- 
sonally acquainted with Lorenz Marten, were 
agreeable impressed by bis handsome f^ge ; and 


236 


The Little Countess, 


the slight tokens of admiration exhibited on like 
occasions — by even the most critical audiences 
— were not lacking when the young aspirant for 
fame came quietly toward the footlights. He 
glanced once around the crowded house, then 
began to sing. Yes, beyond a doubt his voice 
was a magnificent organ ; the clear, rich waves 
of sound rolled from his throat as if their volume 
were inexhaustible; and the admirers of melody 
— melody pure and simple, rejoiced in the clean, 
careful execution of the difficult passages. But 
the majority of his hearers remained mute. The 
applause, when he concluded, was so moderate 
that Frau Inger's eyes overflowed with tears of 
disappointment, and Lorenz’s face flushed pain- 
fully as he bowed before the judgment of his 
critics — he felt keenly how disappointed his 
friends must be. 

Miss Kopp smiled compassionately on her 
neighbor, and in a cool undertone observed that 
after all, the public demanded something more 


Miss Mary Kopp. 


237 


than a handsome face, and a merely passable 
voice/’ 

Had not Frau Bertha dreaded the eyes of the 
multitude, she would have quitted the concert 
room before the second appearance of her 
favorite ; as it was, she remained, and passively 
endured Miss Kopp’s sarcastic observations. 

When Lorenz appeared again, there was about 
him a certain haste and excitement which had 
not characterized his first entrance. His eyes 
sought the front row of stalls, and fixed them- 
selves — not on the fair face of his champion, but 
on that of her companion, to whom he now 
seemed to address his despairing plea. 

Was this inspired singer the same Lorenz 
Marten? — this passionate accuser, this genius of 
personified revenge, the same irnperturbable 
Lorenz ? 

Frau Bertha was speechless with wonder- 
ment, while Miss Kopp, whose usually colorless 
face was flushed with a strange excitement, 
joined in the tumultuous and continuous ap- 


238 


The Little Countess. 


plause which brought the victorious singer a 
dozen times before the curtain. The sagacious 
audience had recognized the artist’s clever ruse, 
to first exhibit his rare voice, and afterward to 
astonish them with its capabilities! 

The amazement of Lorenz’s instructors was 
even greater than that of the audience^ — as well 
it might be. They had found their matter-of- 
fact pupil at all times deficient in the qualifica- 
tions which are considered necessary to produce 
stage effects.” He seemed utterly powerless 
to express poetic passion. 

The only person who might have explained 
his sudden inspiration never even dreamed that 
her words gave him the poetic fire he lacked. 
Liesi, who had been hastily summoned behind 
the curtain after her brother’s first appearance, 
to sew a button on his glove, had said to him : 

Did you notice the short-haired lady who 
came with Frau Inger? She is worth millions; 
and her negro groom told me this morning that 
sho is going to buy Hohfieck Castle, and marry 


Miss Mary Kopp, 


239 


Count Halla. Hum ! if / had that much money 
I shouldn’t marry any one lower than a prince !” 

“ Poor little countess ! poor little countess !” 
pityingl}’’ murmured Lorenz, vainly trying to 
draw on his left hand the right hand glove. 

In his own pure, simple heart, he experienced 
all the soreness, all the bitterness that had fallen 
on Candide ; and his honest soul rebelled against 
the cruel woman who had robbed his benefac- 
tress — his idol ! — of her home and her lover. 
Not in mere language could he have expressed 
the sorrow, the anger which filled his heart; but 
in song — that was different ! For the first time 
something beside mere sound rushed from his 
lips — something more than pure melody accord- 
ing to a written score. Despairing sorrow, 
passionate, complaining, fervent indignation, 
rolled in mighty volume from his throat, and 
became the bridge from whose heaven-reaching 
arch he hurled down upon her who would 
pierce the heart of his adored benefactress, his 
inspired accusations. He felt as if he could sing 


240 


The Little Countess, 


on thus forever, with his burning gaze fixed on 
Miss Kopp's perplexed face. But the thunders 
of applause reminded him that he owed some- 
thing to the enthusiastic audience. 

He sighed when his friends crowded around 
him with congratulations, and unconsciously 
allowed his glance to wander toward Candide's 
rival. It met, instead of Miss Kopp’s inquisitive 
face, Frau Inger’s beaming eyes, and in them he 
saw admiration, pride, affectionate sympathy. 
The scales fell suddenly from his eyes ; he was 
enlightened. In this hour of bitter resentment 
and sorrow, the future had opened for him two 
golden doors. Overpowered by his emotion, 
the successful debutante staggered to his dress- 
ing-room, where he flung himself on the sofa 
and wept bitter tears. 

It was after the ‘Mittle supper” which had 
followed Lorenz Marten’s successful debut ; and 
Frau Inger was driving with Miss Kopp toward 
that young lady’s lodgings. 


Afiss Mary Kopp. 


241 


Dear Miss Kopp,” in a tremulous voice at 
last said the widow, breaking a rather lengthy 
silence, ‘‘you may congratulate me, for I too am 
happily betrothed. I know very well,*' she went 
on, as Miss Kopp merely elevated her brows 
and looked scornful, “ that my choice will create 
surprise : for my views, only six months ago, 
were very different. But what is rank, — what 
is wealth, without love? I am really in love 
now for the first time, and I have no higher aim, 
no dearer wish, than to know that the man I love 
so dearly is as happy as he deserves to be. Ah, 
dear, good Miss Kopp — " 

“ Tm not good ; ” bluntly interrupted Miss 
Kopp. 

“ But you can be if you will,’* quickly rejoined 
the widow, laying her hand on Miss Kopp's arm. 
“You will be very good if you will grant the 
favor I am going to ask. My beloved Lorenz 
desires above all things to buy Hohneck Castle 
— that tumble-down owl’s nest ! Now what can 
you care for such a heap of stones ? /thought 


242 


The Little Coimtess, 


the old ruin perfectly hideous, until I learned 
that my Lorenz used to play there when he was 
a little boy — what an angelic child he must have 
been ! — then, of course, I grew fond of it, and I 
shall never cease feeling grateful toward you, if 
you will let me buy the castle instead of — 

‘'You don’t seem to think me capable of a 
pefichant for the boyhood’s playground of my 
betrothed husband,” in an ironical tone inter- 
rupted Miss Kopp. 

“ I don’t think you do care for it in that way,” 
returned Frau Inger. “ Nor have Count Halla’s 
wishes any weight with you. We simple folk” 
— Frau Bertha smiled sweetly — “ are different 
from you and Count Halla ; we love each other 
like ordinary people. But you will consent ; for 
I know that Count Halla would rather live in a 
modern house at the Residenz, than in a restored 
castle at Hohneck.” 

“ I dare say he would,” coolly responded Miss 
Kopp. “ But I can’t see why I should sacrifice 


Miss Mary Kopp, 


243 


my plans for your happiness, and Count Halla’s 
preferences/* • 

A pause ensued, during which the carriage 
stopped at Miss Kopp’s door. 

I am willing to pay any price Count Halla 
may choose to ask,” tearfully urged the widow, 
as Miss Kopp laid her hand on the door. 

'' Count Halla wouldn’t chaffer about the price 
of so trifling a matter as an estate,” returned 
Miss Kopp, in a tone whose loftiness effectually 
concealed the sarcastic meaning of her words. 
‘‘ And I, my dear Frau Inger, dislike nothing so 
much as a love-sick goose ! Good-night ; remem- 
ber I count on your assistance next Thursday !” 

The next morning everything that had 
occurred the preceding evening seemed so like 
a dream, that Lorenz Marten almost hesitated to 
ring the bell at the residence of his betrothed 
wife. But Liesi’s triumphant greeting, her con- 
fident air, and her boastful mention of ^‘ Sister 
Bertha,” together with the fair widow’s blushing 


244 


The Little Countess, 


welcome, banished all doubt from his brain. He 
kissed the plump hand that rested so confidingly 
in his own broad palm, and said humbly : 

‘‘ Pardon the stupidity of the poor watchman’s 
grandson, if he is unable at once to understand 
his good fortune. I can hardly realize that I am 
awake ! that it is not all a dream. I am so glad, 
my dear friend, that I am able to give you some- 
thing in return for the generous heart you have 
bestowed upon me — here is my engagement for 
the court theatre.” 

‘‘How interesting!” ejaculated Frau Inger, 
coloring with pleasure. ‘‘And you will really 
appear in an opera ? How very interesting !” 

“Yes; I intend to try to win fame for you,” 
said Lorenz, simply. “You must not wear an 
unknown name — you are too good — and 1 must 
earn my own bread.” 

“You shall do just as you please, dear Lorenz,” 
returned the ever-indulgent Frau Bertha. “ But,” 
— she added hesitatingly — ''I am afraid 1 have 
not succeeded in winning Miss Kopp’s consent 


Miss Mary Kopp, 


245 


to let me buy Hohneck. Perhaps — perhaps — 
you would not have asked me to marry you if 
you had not believed I might be able to buy the 
castle ?’' 

‘'Perhaps not;” with his usual candor 
responded Lorenz ; adding hastily, when he saw 
the tears come into the bright eyes of his 
affianced wife : “ I should not have dared to 
aspire to your hand, dear Bertha, had not your 
own suggestions about the castle encouraged 
me — you are so rich, while I am almost a 
beggar.” 

The tears overflowed the bright eyes raised so 
pleadingly to his face : 

“ Y ou — you — lo — love — Countess — Halla,” she 
sobbed. 

“ I revere the countess — I have revered her ^ 
above every other human being so long as I can 
remember,” unhesitatingly acknowledged the 
young singer. “ But she never — not even when 
she sympathized most with me — allowed me to 
forget that she was a Halla, and I only the 


246 


The Little Countess, 


watchman’s grandson. Dear Bertha, when I 
think of you I say to myself, ‘ This good, unselfish 
woman is sent to you by your Heavenly Father 
to bless and brighten your life !” 

He laid his arm around her waist, drew her to 
his breast, and looked smilingly down into her 
tearful eyes. There was no ardor, no passionate 
warmth in the embrace, but the simple-hearted 
Bertha was content. 

'' We — we — might ask Candide to — to live with 
us,” she suggested, heroically. 

No, dear; poor as the little countess is she 
is too proud to do that. We must think of some 
other way to help her. First of all, however, you 
must learn to reverence her as I do.” 

I — 1 — will try,” solomnly promised Frau 
Bertha through her tears. Mentally she regis. 
tered a vow that, hard though the task might 
prove, she would do it — for the sake of ' her 
Lorenz. ’ ” 



CHAPTER XL 

THE THUNDERBOLT. 

There was rejoicing in the actuary's house- 
hold when it became known that Count Halla 
was going to marry a great heiress who would 
rebuild the castle, and dislodge from her beloved 
ruins the hated Countess Candide. 

The wedding day dawned gloomily. Threat- 
ening storm-clouds darkened the entire sky, and 
a heavy thunderbolt, that shook the old castle 
to its foundations, shattered one of the largest 
trees in the court-)"ard. The shock loosened the 
last remnant of the escutcheon over the main 
entrance to the castle ; it was the eagle’s talons 
which had clung tenaciously for two centuries 
to the crumbling wall. Old Anatole was beside 


248 


The Little Countess. 


himself with superstitious terror ; it was an 
‘‘omen of evil,” he moaned — as if bad luck had 
not already laid its hand often enough on the 
fallen house ! But the countess merely smiled 
sadly and said : 

We cannot withdraw ourselves from the age 
and its influences, Anatole. Well for us had we 
tried, years ago, to learn the lesson !” 

The rain was still falling in torrents when, 
toward noon. Count Halla and his betrothed, 
accompanied by Frau Inger, and an attorney 
from the Residenz, arrived at the castle. Wil- 
brand started violently when he saw the frag- 
ments of the shattered crest lying on the door- 
step. 

'' Whose work is this?” he demanded with an 
angry frown, turning to his cousin. 

Candide pointed toward the heavy clouds, and 
answered quietly : 

A thunderbolt did it.” 

A few minutes later, the clergyman from the 


The T/iufiderbolt. 


249 


village arrived in company with the actuary, and 
joined the bridal party in the grand saloon. 

Miss Kopp, who looked less like a bride than 
either Frau Inger or the Countess Candide, was 
comfortably seated in an easy chair, complacently 
surveying first one, then another of the assembled 
company. Although there was nothing bride- 
like about her, she had never appeared to better 
advantage than at this moment. A certain mis- 
chievous expression beamed in her eyes, and 
played around her lips, heightening the peculiar 
beauty of her piquant face. Wilbrand, whose 
brief betrothal season was made up of repulses 
from his matter-of-fact fiance^ might have augured 
favorably from her present mood. 

‘‘ Are we quite ready T she asked, addressing 
the attorney, who had been writing busily at the 
table. He nodded assent, and she continued : 

‘‘ I will pay twelve thousand dollars for Hoh- 
neck Castle ; and agree to give Count Wilbrand 
Halla four thousand dollars yearly — a sum that 
will be sufficient to defray his traveling expenses 


250 


The Little Countess, 


— I think! What do you say, Count Halla?*’ 
turning toward her betrothed husband. 

That is quite enough, my dear Mary — quite. 
But 1 was not aware that you — 

Please write that down,’* in a business-like 
tone said Miss Kopp to her lawyer, unceremoni- 
ously cutting short the count’s speech. 

I was not aware,” rather impatiently resumed 
Count Wilbrand, that you intended to travel. 
The architect is already here, and the building 
surely cannot go on without some one to super- 
intend — ” 

‘‘ Certainly not,” again interrupted the bride, 

I expect to superintend my improvements. I 
intend to stop at Hohneck.” 

‘^Ah! — and I?” — Wilbrand surveyed his 
betrothed with a glance that was certainly not 
lover-like. 

‘‘You, mon cher ? ” — with a careless shrug. “ I 
expect you to set out on an extended tour so 
soon as the marriage ceremony is concluded. 
So soon as lam Countess Halla, you will receive 


The Thunderbolt, 


251 


the first installment of your allowance — which is 
quite a handsome price to pay for a title — don't 
you think?" 

‘‘ And you expect nothing further from this 
union?" asked the count in an ominously calm 
voice. 

“ Nothing. The title, and the station of a 
married woman are all I desire. Have you 
drawn up the .agreement?" she inquired of the 
attorney. 

In a moment," returned the man of law, 
hastily writing. '' Now, Mademoiselle," — push- 
ing toward her the document, and handing her 
a pen, please sign your name." 

“ Mary Kopp " — she wrote the signature in 
clear, bold characters, and stepped aside to give 
place to Count Halla. 

“ Do you insist that the marriage ceremony is 
to be only the sign of our separation ?" he asked 
in a low tone. 

I do. Why should we pretend to live 
together as man and wife? We don’t love each 


252 


The Little Countess. 


other. You want money, and I want a name. 
By this agreement each gets what is most desired 
— is not that enough T 

Without a word, Wilbrandtook the document, 
tore it in two, and flung the pieces at her feet. 
Miss Kopp looked at him with a questioning 
glance and a quizzical smile. 

‘‘Do you refuse to sell your name? or your 
ruins ? — which ?’* 

“Both!'' with flaming eyes thundered Wil- 
brand. 

“ Ah ? Then success to you, my handsome 
beggar Prince ! I hope you may find some 
one else to pay your debts. Herr Advocate, 
order my carriage. Come, Frauinger, the farce 
is over. Let us quit this aristocratic tower of 
hunger, whose master refuses to sell his title 
because the bargain was not worded to suit his 
fastidious taste." 

She laid her hand on Frau Bertha's arm ; but 
the widow drew back with a repugnant gesture, 
and said in a tone of decision : 


The Thunderbolt, 


253 


'' I am not going until 1 have convinced Count 
and Countess Halla that I am their friend, and 
that I am ready and willing to help them to the 
best of my ability/' 

“ As you please, my dear," carelessly rejoined 
Miss Kopp. Now is your chance to bid for 
Hohneck ! Adieu." 

As the door closed behind her, Frau Inger 
exclaimed : Good gracious! what will Lorenz 

say?" with an emphasis which indicated that 
what Lorenz might say was of more importance 
than anything that had yet occurred. Lorenz 
Marten — my betrothed husband ;" she exclaimed 
with a blush. 

Wilbrand was standing at the window ; but 
turned suddenlv, and fixed his eyes searchingly 
on the face of his cousin, who had been a silent 
witness of the whole scene. For the first time 
he saw her sorrowful, without anger or bitter- 
ness. At the widow's somewhat untimely 
announcement of her prospective marriage 
Candide turned toward her, and merely nodded 


254 


The Little Cou7ttess, 


in approval, whereupon Frau Bertha offered to 
tell the clergyman that his services would not be 
required ; and the architect — 

“ Tell him to go, too — all of them — the ship is 
sinking ! — vae victis /'* cried Wilbrand. 

The widow hurried from the room as if the 
floor were burning beneath her feet ; and Wil- 
brand seated himself opposite his cousin at the 
table. 

Candide,” he began after a long silence, “the 
humiliation which has overtaken me is all the 
harder to bear, because, blinded by jealousy and 
a desire for revenge, 1 brought it upon myself. 
From to-day I cease to be the envied cavalier, 
and become a common swindler — that snake in 
woman’s guise is right ; I have many debts, and 
no money to pay them.” 

Candide stretched out her hand to him across 
the table, and said encouragingly : 

“Sell Hohneck, and pay your debts, cousin; 
and then prove to the mocking public that you 
have it in you to win an honorable name.” 


The Thunderbolt. 


255 


Hohneck is not mine to sell, Candide ; it 
belongs to you.” 

‘‘ It belongs to the honor of our family,” was 
the solemn reply. 

O, Candide ! You great-heart !” exclaimed 
Wilbrand with kindling eyes. Once more I 
grasp your saving hand, once more I beseech 
you to help me. Complete your noble work, 
Didi, and give me the blessed assurance that 
when I return to you an honest and honored 
man, you will let me call you mine — Candide, my 
only love ! once more forgive me — forgive my 
faults — forgive the insults I have heaped upon 
you through my madness, my love, my jeal- 
ousy !” 

The countess looked out at the storm-driven 
clouds, then at her cousin, whose repentant tears 
were falling on her hands. 

“ No, Wilbrand,” she said, quietly, ‘‘ you must 
go your way in God’s name ; and do your duty 
for your own sake, and for the sake of your 
honor, without looking back on the past, with- 


256 


The Little Countess, 


out expectation of reward in the future. Already 
we have sacrificed too much to our family pride. 
Don’t trouble about me. I am going to find 
a peaceful home — to-morrow, or next day, I am 
going to be married to Doctor Grunanger — ” 

Wilbrand uttered a despairing cry ; and when 
Frau Inger wanted to rejoin the cousins, she 
could not summon enough courage to enter the 
room. There was an exciting interview within, 
which lasted more than an hour. Storm and 
rain had given place outside to mild sunshine : 
but the tempest within the two passionate young 
hearts raged all the more furiously. 

At last the tried pair — Wilbrand deathly pale, 
and with an expression of hopeless despair, 
Candide very quiet, but composed — sought the 
trembling and tearful widow, and invited her to 
dinner. It was not a very joyous wedding 
feast. After it was concluded. Count Halla 
ascended the hill in quest of Doctor Grunanger, 
to whom he intended offering the castle. 
Frau Inger, whose love and respect for 'Gier 


The T hunderbolt. 


257 


Lorenz '' had prevented her from mentioning the 
subject, naturally knew nothing about the Count’s 
intentions. Thus it came that Count Halla, on 
his wedding day, asked the Doctor: 

Do you want to buy Hohneck ?” 

‘‘ I’ll tell you what I’ll do, my young friend,” 
said the doctor, after he had carefully filed 
several prescriptions. ‘‘ I will lend you enough 
money to pay your most urgent debts ; and, 
with the assistance of your cousin, I will manage 
your estate for you until you are in condition to 
take that duty upon yourself.” 

‘‘ Perhaps my cousin will not agree to this 
most generous arrangement,” hesitated Wil- 
brand. 

If it is generous, then be sure that she will,” 
smilingly rejoined the doctor. 

‘‘ You seem to understand my cousin,” 
remarked VVilbrand, with a jealous pang. 

‘‘ I believe I do.” 

And expect to tame the noble falcon?” 

‘‘ I ? — oh, no necessity — God’s will has tamed 


The Little Countess, 


•^58 

her — or did she yield again to-day to the old 
passionate temper — 

Calm yourself, old gentleman,'’ with a sneer 
interrupted the count. Your pupil was a model 
of patience — already she is become the pattern 
doctor's wife !" 

With God's help Candide will remain always 
herself,” returned the doctor, in a dignified tone. 

« Forgive me!” exclaimed Wilbrand, coloring 
with shame. I am so miserable I know not 
what I say ! I am an ungrateful fool to insult 
my benefactor — the man whom Candide reveres 
and honors above all others. You cannot guess 
how I suffer, and how I regret my folly.” 

“Yes, I think I can,” responded the doctor. 
“ He that is accustomed to deal with invalids, 
learns to diagnose all diseases.” 

“ Then — ” cried Wilbrand, desperately, run- 
ning his fingers through his blonde locks. 
“ Then you will know how to pity me.” 

“ No indeed 1 my dear lad. Almost I am 


The Thunderbolt, 


259 


tempted to envy your vigorous youth, your 
energy — you were created for something useful.” 

Wilbrand looked at him with questioning sur- 
prise. 

'‘Are you in earnest, doctor ?” he asked. 

" In dead earnest,” promptly rejoined the 
doctor. " And now, to begin at once with your 
rehabilitation. What is the sum total of your 
debts ?” 

While Doctor Grunanger was — as he laugh- 
ingly described the transaction — " buying himself 
into the Halla family,” Frau Inger, in the kind- 
ness of her simple heart, was trying to banish 
Candide's mournful humor by her cheerful prat- 
tle about "her Lorenz.” Perhaps the enamored 
widow would not have felt so secure in the pos- 
session of her youthful betrothed, could she have 
guessed that he was, at that very moment, in 
the fascinating society of Miss Mary Kopp. 

That emancipated young woman had taken 
possession of the singer at the railway station at 


The Little Countess. 


260 

the Residenz, whither he had gone to await the 
return of Frau Inger from Hohneck, 

Don’t be alarmed, Frau Inger is quite well,” 
she said, in reply to Lorenz’s look of surprise 
when he saw her emerge from the carriage 
unaccompanied his fiance. Come with me ; 
my wagon will drop you at your lodgings.” 

When they were rolling over the paved street 
Miss Kopp said again: ''Yes, Frau Inger is 
very well ; but what a queer person she is. 
Have you ever noticed how very commonplace 
she is, Herr Marten? I should think you would 
have, with your artistic nature. She is one of 
those harmless souls who are utterly incapable 
of appreciating the grandeur of a storm in the 
mountains, a tempest at sea — a tragedy in any 
form, elemental or human. Your future life, 
Herr Marten, will be an endless monotone ; your 
phoenix soul will not be able to rise from the 
ashes of your domestic hearth, but will smoulder 
slowly to hopeless cinders — ” 

" Miss — Miss Kopp,” remonstrated the puzr 


77^^ Thundei^bclt, 


261 


zied Lorenz, you ought not to say such things 
to me — I — 1 really must not listen — 

Ah, you feel the truth of my words, and dis- 
like me for warning you,’* coolly interrupted 
Miss Kopp. '‘Your dislike of me began when 
you imagined I was going to grieve your ideal of 
perfection, Countess Halla — I am better than my 
reputation, Herr Marten,” she added, with a 
laugh. "Since the concert when I first heard 
you sing, I have known that I could not marry 
Count Halla — so give yourself no further trouble 
about Hohneck. I’m not going to buy that 
remnant of mouldering magnificence; I merely 
wanted to teach its grand seignor a lesson that 
would permanently cure him of his swindling 
propensities. Ha, ha, ha !” leaning back in her 
seat and laughing heartily. " I think my lord 
von Halla is completely cured !” 

Lorenz shuddered ; but his companion was 
too deeply absorbed in her own amusing 
thoughts to notice the repugnant expression on 
his honest face. 


262 


The Little Countess. 


'' It was at that concert,” she resumed, '' when 
you seemed to draw inspiration from my face, 
that I decided not to rebuild Hohneck. In- 
stead, I am going to build the reputation of a 
deserving artist whose name and talents will be 
remembered when the new castle is a crumbling 
ruin !” 

Miss Kopp's face glowed with enthusiasm as 
she turned it upon the young singer, who was 
trembling with amazement and agitation. 

Pray — don’t say any more,” he gasped. I 
know that you are only amusing yourself with 
me — ” 

^'Indeed I am not!” she interposed. ‘‘lam 
in sober earnest. Do I look like a person that 
makes mistakes? There” — playfully tapping his 
arm with her gloved fingers — “ don’t tremble 
so, you foolish boy ! I don’t intend to rob you 
of that showy betrothal ring — which you have 
no right to wear, for you love Candide vou 
Halla a thousand times better than you do that 


T he T hmiderbolt. 


263 


elderly, over-dressed doll, who will force you to 
marry her!’' 

Lorenz covered his face with his hands and 
groaned. 

Why do you say this to me ? Why do you 
cruelly remind me of what I must forget? I 
was trying to be happy — content — ” 

‘‘Yes; as the urchin who fondly imagines his 
counters to be gold coin,” sarcastically 'supple- 
mented Miss Kopp. 

“ What benefit is it to you to drop poison into 
my cup?” half angrily demanded Lorenz. 

“ Calm yourself, Herr Marten ; we are at my 
lodgings. Come in, and you shall hear what 
benefit it is to me.” 

The carriage stopped, and Miss Kopp ran 
lightly up the steps to the door. Lorenz fol- 
lowed more slowly. His good angel counseled 
flight ; but how could he, a simple rustic, pre- 
sume to be rude to so fine a lady ? 

Fearing to retreat, yet reluctant to advance, 
he crossed the threshold with a hesitating step. 


264 


The Little Countess, 


The next instant the grinning negro footman 
closed the door behind him. 

In the luxurious sitting-room, Miss Kopp tossed 
her hat and parasol on the table, seated herself 
in an easy chair, and motioned Lorenz to take 
the one opposite to her. In answer to her 
peremptory ring, the negro servant brought 
cigarettes. Miss Kopp lighted one and pushed 
the tray toward Lorenz, who had been watching 
her with unveiled astonishment and disapproval 
in his brown eyes. 

'' I don’t smoke,” he said almost r*idely. 

“ Not? You are an exemplary youth! It will 
be rather difficult to initiate you into the man- 
ners and customs of our world ; but I shall suc- 
ceed — I always accomplish what I undertake.” 

'' I think I prefer to win a name through my 
own endeavors,” Lorenz ventured respectfully 
to remark. 

I dare say ! But you by yourself would 
never accomplish it.” 

She leaned back in her chair, and letting a 


T he T hunderbolt. 


265 


contemplative glance follow the rings of smoke 
which rose from her lips and encircled her 
head, continued : 

** This is my programme for you : Prince 
Moritz will celebrate his birthday by a grand 
musical fete at the court theatre, in which Herr 
Marten, the new tenor, shall sustain the princi- 
pal role. The evening following the musical 
entertainment — which will be a success, of course 
— Prince Moritz shall meet and be introduced 
to the tenor at a ball given at Miss Kopp'Si resi- 
dence. His highness, the prince, will want to 
hear Herr Marten sing again. His wish shall 
be gratified, and the distinguished personage 
will be so charmed with the modest singer that 
he will bestow on him a souvenir — say a diamond 
pin — and, presto ! before the season has well 
begun, you will have made a newspaper name, 
and your fortune follows as a matter of course. 
But,’’ she added with a playful glance, '' don’t 
imagine that I intend you to have all the bene- 
fits. No indeed ! At my ball you will sing a 


266 


The Little Countess. 


trifle— a composition of my own — I’ll send you 
the music to-morrow — and in this manner your 
success will win a little fame for me.” 

Frau Inger may not approve — ” he was be- 
ginning when Miss Kopp laughingly interrupted : 

‘‘ Not approve? Don’t be afraid that she will 
oppose anything her ‘ dear friend Miss Kopp ’ 
advises ! Bertha can’t see farther than the tip 
of her pretty little nose ! Your fame here will 
be echoed by the press in America ; and when 
we arrive in New York, you shall have another 
ball in your honor ; and very soon you will be 
able to lay at Frau Bertha’s feet a fortune that 
will equal, if not outweigh the one she now offers 
to you.” 

'' But why — why are you willing to do all this 
for me?” breathlessly interrogated Lorenz. 

/‘Why?” her quizzical eyes surveyed him 
through a cloud of smoke. ‘‘ Well, because it 
will afford me a novel amusement — and I shall 
find my reward in teaching others to know them- 
selves !” 



CHAPTER XII. 

AFTER THE BATTLE. 

The strong fumes of chlorine filled the cor- 
ridors, becoming more oppressive as you ascended 
to the upper wards of the hospital. Light, femi- 
nine footsteps flitted along the halls, mingling 
softly with the halting gait of an invalid or 
cripple. The women you met with in the hos- 
pital wore plain, dark woolen gowns, wide 
aprons, and close white caps ; the men had 
either a leg or an arm in splints and bandages, 
and dragged along on crutches, the maimed 
limbs crippled by the bullets of the enemy. 
They were German heroes, these maimed 
invalids, who had been in battle with the French, 


268 


The Little Coimtess, 


and the women were German heroines, who 
were come with willing hands and hearts, to do 
their noble work among the sick and the wounded 
— Our sisters ” they were called by the maimed 
warriors, who never questioned what had been 
their station in the world, their convictions — 
their sympathies. Enough to know that they 
were there with their cheerful faces and patient 
hands. 

Many times it was quite gay in the lower hall, 
where the convalescents engaged in all sorts of 
amusements to pass the weary hours of waiting. 
Not infrequently a burst of merry laughter 
would ripple along the rows of cots in the sec- 
ond hall ; and then those sufferers who were yet 
too weak to rise from their pillows, would turn 
their heads and look wistfully toward their 
merry brothers. But in the upper wards jo}"- 
ousness was a rare guest. Here one heard 
moans of pain ; delirious muttering; and often, 
when a sufferer closed his eyes in the unrefresh- 
ing slumber of fever, he would find, on waking. 


After the Battle, 


269 


that his neighbor’s bed had been vacated. To 
his inquiring glance, one of the sisters would 
reply with significant accent, He has changed 
his bed for a quieter one,” and many a time the 
one to remain in his uneasy couch would envy 
the comrade who had gone to his last rest. 

To these fever-tortured patients there had 
come daily for weeks, a cheerful, soul-soothing 
physician, who was called by his colleagues and 
the sisters, Doctor Grunanger.” Always he 
was welcomed by the invalids, who believed that 
his cheery voice and genial smile eased their 
pain. Suddenly his visits ceased, and when the 
patients in her ward questioned Sister Candide ” 
concerning the kind doctor’s ” absence, she 
would answer sadl}^ : He is very ill — worse 
than any of you, my poor fellows ! but even in 
his delirium he thinks only of how he may help 
others.” 

This Sister Candide had the lightest touch, the 
softest footstep, of all the self-denying sister- 
hood. She knew better than any of the rest 


270 


The Little Countess, 


how to soothe delirious patients ; for she was 
very firm, and very willing. She spoke only 
when her duty compelled ; but she always knew i 
just when a parched throat thirsted for a cool- 
ing draught ; when a tortured spine would 
rest the easier for a dexterously shifted pillow. 

The male nurses who were paid for their ser- 
vices, and who were prone to doze at untimely 
hours, were convinced that Sister Candide never 
slept. When her duties in the wards were over, 
she would retire to a smaller apartment, occupied 
by a single fever patient, whose vigorous con. 
stitution was struggling heroically with death, 
and there keep watch until daylight again sent 
her back to the wards. 

It was difficult to recognize in the shattered 
wreck, the once sturdy Ludwig Grunanger. 
Candide knew that he would not recover ; she 
believed that his spirit had already freed itself 
from the suffering, earthly envelope, and was 
looking down on her from its home above the 
clouds. She did not murmur. Not one com- 


After the Battle. 


271 


plaining word passed her lips. With a tender 
hand she brushed the damp hair from the sick 
man's brow — Ah, if she might but hear his voice 
once more ! 

‘‘ Dear friend," she murmured in a tender, 
beseeching tone, bending over him, and placing 
her lips close to his ear: ‘‘ Dear, dear friend, 
speak to me ! I am Candide — your child of 
gold !" 

He seemed indeed to hear her voice ; a smile 
flitted for an instant across his bloodless lips, 
then vanished, and he was again muttering in 
delirium. 

Yes, Minna, you must take care of Ralf and 
Seppel until we come back — poor lad ! so you 
were wounded while storming the battery ? 
Brave youth. Well, it might be worse — a bullet 
is merciful — it brings forgetfulness and release — 
Ha, there ! don't let the countess ride on that 
train — it is too steep — great God ! she will be 
killed ! — Ah ! this is horrible — I cannot help her." 
A light knock at the door called Candide from 


272 


The Little Cotmtess. 


the bedside of her delirious patient. She hastily 
resumed the cap she had taken off to cool her 
head, before opening to the visitor, a handsome, 
rosy-cheeked woman, whose fresh beauty was 
heightened by the nun-like garb of the sister- 
hood. Never before— not even in her most 
elaborate toilet, had Bertha Inger appeared half 
so attractive as in her simple hospital uniform. 

You should not come here, Bertha,’' gently 
remonstrated Candide. '' You endanger not only 
yourself, but your patients. Think what Lorenz 
would say if he knew how imprudent you are !” 

‘'And is not he just as imprudent?” with 
sudden tearfulness complained the widow. 
“ Has not he gone across that dreadful ocean, to 
a land where a thousand dangers threaten? He 
might have stopped comfortably at home, and 
as my husband have passed the rest of his life 
in peace and plenty.” 

“ Lorenz is too independent for a life of that 
sort, dear Bertha,” returned Candide. •' He is 
too manly to accept everything from his wife, 


After the Battle, 


2/3 


and give nothing in return. Besides, the time of 
separation will soon pass, and your wedded life 
will be brighter, happier, if Lorenz can feel that 
he did not come to you a penniless singer.’' 

Bertha sighed. It isn’t the separation that 
grieves me most,” she replied. I know very 
well why Miss Kopp put all those strange ideas 
into my poor Lorenz’s head ; she is trying to 
win him from me.” 

'' I don’t think you need apprehend any danger 
from that quarter,” returned Candide, with a 
shadowy smile, Lorenz would die rather than 
prove unfaithful.” 

“ But — but suppose he should learn to love 
that artful creature? — she’s so fascinating,” tear- 
fully suggested Bertha. 

Then it would be your duty to give him 
up—” 

Good gracious,” with a gasping cry inter- 
posed the widow. I couldn’t do that — I should 
not survive such a calamity.” 

Only he loves truly who can renounce love 


The Little Countess. 


274 

for love’s sake !” with an absent air quoted 
Candide. But you must excuse me, Bertha. I 
must not stay longer from my poor invalid. 
To-day I still have the shadow of his earthly 
existence — to-morrow that too will be taken from 
me. Then, dear Bertha, I shall have no one but 
you.'’ 

Oh, it is so sad, and yet so very interesting 
to hear you say so, dear countess. Your friend- 
ship makes me quite proud. But you forget 
your cousin ; you will have Count Wilbrand to 
care for.” 

Who can tell where he may be ?” rejoined 
Candide. He left the University to join the 
army, and he may now be sleeping in a trench 
with hundreds of his brave comrades. Not even 
the six feet of earth that belongs rightfully to 
the most abject pauper, may be the share of the 
last Count Halla ! Now you must go — adieu.” 
She waved her hand in farewell and vanished 
into the sick-room. 

Soon afterward, the physician came; he 


After the Battle. 


275 


scrutinized the face of his suffering colleague, 
felt his pulse, and turned to Candide who was 
sitting at the foot of the bed : 

‘‘ To-night,’’ he said in a low tone, that was 
full of sad significance. 

Candide nodded mechanically, and replied : 

** I shall remain with him till the end.” 

Once more alone with her dying friend, 
Candide lighted the night-lamp, and locked the 
door. She hoped for a moment’s return of 
consciousness ; she longed to thank him once 
more — to ask his forgiveness if she had lacked in 
tenderness toward him. Her anxiety made her 
feverish ; several times she imagined she saw 
the dying man lift himself from the pillow, and 
call her name ; but it was a delusion of her over- 
taxed brain. When the clock on the nearest 
church-tower tolled the midnight hour, a soul, a 
grand, a noble human soul, freighted with charity 
and love, and boundless faith, winged its way 
back to heaven. 

Farewell, best, noblest of men,” murmured 


276 


The Little Countess, 


Candide, tenderly pressing the lids over the 
weary eyes. 

Then she opened the trunk which stood along- 
side the bed, and took from it a sealed packet. 
On the wrapper was written in the doctor’s firm 
characters: “ For Candide, after my death.” 

For a brief moment a sudden faintness blinded 
her ; she leaned her head against the bed-post 
and closed her eyes. Then, rousing herself with 
an effort, she broke the seal. The envelope con- 
tained, beside a letter, a sealed document that 
was marked My will.” 

Candide unfolded the letter and began to 
read : Light of my eyes, soul of my soul, my 
only love, Candide ! When you read these lines, 
my spirit will have deserted its mortal clay, and 
I may at last thank you for having enriched my 
life with your affection ; for having given me a 
second youth, a higher ambition — ” 

A cry of bitter anguish burst from Candide ’s 
over-burdened heart. She seized the hand which 
had penned the loving words — she wanted to 


Aftei^ the Battle, 277 

thank him ; but the hand was already cold. It 
fell, limp and nerveless, from her clasp. 

A shuddering moan, a choking sob, then a 
flood of merciful, healing tears, came to her 
relief, and prevented her from reading further. 

The first gray light of dawn roused the soli- 
tary mourner from her grief. She rose from her 
knees, took the sealed will from the table, and 
held it in the flame of the lamp until the paper 
was thoroughly kindled. Then she laid it on the 
stove-hearth, and watched it burn to ashes. As 
the last spark died away, and left nothing but 
the blackened ash, she murmured : 

'^Now we are quits, dear, noble friend. Our 
holy friendship was above all earthly fetters — no 
selfishness shall mar its purity and beauty.’' 

When the hospital physician made his custo- 
mary early morning round, a shadowy form and 
pale face rose before him from the gloom of the 
corridor. 

“ He died at midnight, doctor,” said a hollow 


278 


TJie Little Countess. 


voice. The doctor adjusted his spectacles; 
threw back his head, and through the glasses 
surveyed the calm, pale face of sister Candide. 

Ah — yes. I feared as much,’’ he said with 
regret in his tones. ‘‘ You were well acquainted 
with this excellent man, I believe ?” 

“ He was my benefactor — my teacher in the 
fullest sense of the word.” 

“ Hum — you must take care of yourself, now, 
sister; you are wearing out your energies.” 

When 1 feel that I need rest I shall take it,” 
was the quiet rejoinder. “ I am ready now for 
duty in the wards.” 

You have repeated those very words every 
morning for weeks,” remonstrated the doctor, 
with another keen glance at the young sister’s” 
pale face. 

- Yes.” 

‘‘ And I have cautioned you a dozen times. 
You will make yourself ill if you continue in 
this manner. One sacrifice — ” pointing toward 


After the Battle, 


279 

the room in which lay the silent form of his late 
colleague — '' is quite enough.’' 

'' His was too great,” in a quivering voice 
responded Candide. Hundreds will miss him, 
no one would ask after me — pray excuse me, 
doctor, I am detaining you — ” she added hastily, 
and the next instant had vanished. 

“ A very singular young woman — very,” a few 
minutes later muttered the doctor, as he sur- 
veyed with an absent gaze, the patient in the 
first cot, and for the fifth or sixth time counted 
his rapidly beating pulse. 




CHiVPTER XIII. 

THE SOULS OF THE HALLAS. 

The Germans won the victory. The French 
milliards crossed the boundaries back to their 
country; and the current of events bore all Ger- 
many into new channels. Only at Hohneck 
ever3Thing seemed the same as before the war. 
Countess Halla, who had been absent for a time, 
was come back to her ruins, and everything was 
again as it had been for years. 

Just before the war was declared. Doctor 
Grunanger had made great preparations for 
improving the castle ; but before the work was 
well begun, the laborers had to drop hammers 
and spades, and march to the field of battle. 
Shortly after they had gone, the doctor also took 



The Sotils of the Hallas. 281 

it into his head to serve his country, and he too 
departed — never to return ! Hohneck was 
greatly excited when the news of the doctor’s 
death was received. Was poor, dear, long- 
suffering Minna to be the doctor’s heir? or had 
he been foolish enough to leave everything to 
that haughty countess who had so bewitched 
him ? 

So much sympathy and pity were lavished on 
Minna that she went about among her friends 
looking very like the martyr the)^ tried to make 
her believe she was. It was difficult to tell, 
therefore, whether she was glad or otherwise 
when it became known that her brother had 
failed to make a will — that no testament of any 
kind had been found among his papers, or in the 
carefully packed trunk which had been sent 
home from the hospital. 

That a will had at one time been written was 
certain, for the document had been duly attested 
in the presence of witnesses. However, be that 
as It may, no such paper was to be found ; and 


^82 The Little Coimiess. 

Minna was transformed from the cruelly neg- 
lected martyr into an heiress with a comfortable 
fortune. Is it necessary to add that on her 
accession to her property, she lost the sympathy 
of her friends? that their former pity was 
changed to envy and malice? Such was espe- 
cially the case when the apothecary’s clerk — a 
middle-aged Christian who devoted his leisure 
moments to flute practice, and who, because of 
his steady habits, had been elected by his em- 
ployer to become his future son-in-law and suc- 
cessor to the shop — until which time he was 
looked upon by the family as a person of gen- 
eral usefulness about the house — took it into his 
head to pay the most marked attention to 
‘‘ Fraulein Minna Grunanger.” 

Whenever the heiress went to the apothecary’s 
for a pennyworth of camphor, the purchase 
would be sure to be accompanied by a vial of 
perfume — an elixir prepared by the elderly flute 
player’s own hands. Or, if Minna sent her 
servant for some flavoring extracts, they would 


The Soids of the Hallas. 


283 


be sure to arrive in company with a box of deli- 
cately scented lozenges, carefully enclosed in 
silver tissue paper. In short, whatever aesthetic 
drugs the apothecary’s shelves could supply, 
found their way, in some dainty shape, to the 
hands of the tender-hearted heiress. 

After awhile, there might be seen every now 
and then an anonymous communication in the 
Hohneck Weekly, which would clearly demon- 
strate the need of a second apothecary shop in 
the rapidly growing town. The writer would 
suggest — casually, of course — that in case another 
apothecary should find it advisable to establish a 
second drug emporium in Hohneck, the most 
suitable location would naturally be in the office 
made vacant by the death of our esteemed 
fellow-townsman. Doctor Grunanger. 

Now who but that vilest of ingrates, the 
elderly flutist, could have originated and secretly 
inserted in the apothecary’s own organ such 
scandalous articles? 

The result of all this was that at the/' Meeting 


284 


The Little Countess. 


for the Purpose of Preparing Surgeons’ Supplies 
for the Hospitals,” the lint and compresses 
were saturated with gall and wormwood instead 
of the milk of human charity and brotherly 
love ; and the industrious workers, while tearing 
into strips the stores of old linen for bandages 
for the wounded heroes, at the same time rent 
in pieces the characters of the envied Minna and 
her musical drug-clerk. 

This feeling of animosity yet prevailed 
throughout Hohneck, when Paris capitulated ; 
when Alsace and Lorraine became incorpor- 
ated in the German Union, and when peace was 
definitely established. Too late the envious 
gossips learned that their behavior toward 
Minna Grunanger, instead of alienating her 
from her pharmacopolist suitor had driven her 
the sooner to his arms, for one beautiful Sabbath 
morning, when the residents of Hohneck came 
to the breakfast table, they found beside their 
coffee-cups this gilt-lettered announcement of the 
betrothal ; 


The Sotils of the Hallas, 


285 

“ WILHELMINA GRUNANGER, 
and 

HEINRICH AUGUST FRAAS, 

Engage dy 

Naturally no time was left to discuss Countess 
Halla’s affairs, and the castle on the hill-top was 
for a time completely forgotten. At the trium- 
phal feast by which the worthy and patriotic 
citizens of Hohneck celebrated the German vic- 
tory, the burgomaster feelingly remarked, that 
'' it would be no more than proper if the Company 
assembled around this ever-to-be-remembered 
feast, should drop a silent tear to the memory of 
the two heroes, fellow-citizens, who had given 
their lives for the Fatherland.” The one was 
Conrad Erlbrink, only son of the deceased chim- 
ney-sweep of the same name ; the other, Count 
Wilbrand von Halla — the last of his illustrious 
line ! — whose end it is true was as yet shrouded 

I 

in uncertainty. Though eye witnesses had seen 
him fall in the field of battle, his name had not 
appeared in the lists of the dead,” 


286 


The Little Countess, 


With a greatness of soul that is to be found 
only in patriotic citizens, the company bore the 
loss of these two heroes ; the burgomaster alone 
was soft-hearted enough to shed the proposed 
tear — but not until after the dessert, when his 
third bottle had given a melancholy turn to his 
mood. 

A few weeks after Countess Halla’s return, 
the post-keeper, whose hotel projects had been 
interrupted by the war, and whom Doctor 
Grunanger’s contemplated improvements at the 
castle had convinced that the romantic hill-top 
was the most desirable situation for the coveted 
summer resort,” sent a confidential agent to 
learn the countess' views concerning the sale of 
her ruins. 

Candide listened quietly while the agent 
disclosed his errand ,* then, with an absent- 
minded air, replied : '' I am not at liberty to sell 
the castle ; the other heir may object.” 

Have you taken any steps to settle the 


The So2iis of the Hallas, 


2^7 


question of Count Halla’s death ?” inquired the 
post-keeper's plenipotentiary. 

'' 1 ? — no." Candide surveyed him with vague 
surprise. Had the agent been familiar with 
“ Ophelia," he would have doubtless likened the 
sad-faced young countess to that image of tender 
grace and sorrow. 

If we — I mean if 1 can obtain proof of the 
count’s death, will — " 

‘‘ I shall not sell the castle," calmly interposed 
the countess. I intend to live here — until the 
end !" 

'' But, good heavens ! countess, you are so 
young to be so alone — so forsaken." 

Yes," dreamily murmured the countess. '' I 
am alone — I am forsaken because I forsook them 
— forgot them." 

<< Forget whom ? Of whom are you speaking?" 
inquisitively urged the agent. 

‘‘ The Hallas— the Hallas," she answered, 
lightly waving her hand toward the portraits on 
the walls. 


The Little Countess, 


288 


Why, they died ages ago,’' with a mocking 
smile rejoined the agent. 

Yes, I know ; bat their souls are here. Souls 
never die !” 

The man stared wonderingly at her ; but she 
had forgotten him. She stroked Rail’s soft fur, 
and tossed some crumbs to the pigeons that were 
stepping daintily along the balustrade on the 
balcony. 

That same evening Hohneck was shocked to 
learn that Countess Halla had lost her mind — 
was, in fact, a raving lunatic. The kaffee-klatsch 
bubbled over with excitement ; the members 
debated whether public safety did not demand 
the incarceration of the mad countess.” The 
husbands and fathers, roused in due time by the 
fears of their wives and daughters, likewise dis- 
cussed the countess’ unsafe condition,” and 
decided that she should be placed as soon as 
possible under proper surveillance.” The 
following proposition was, therefore, placed 
before the committee : Who is the proper 



LIEUTENANT WILBRAND’S RETURN.— Pa(je 302 . 



The Sottls of the H alias. 


2S9 


person to act for an insane citizen who is with- 
out family or kindred T 

Two parties were formed. The one hostile to 
the Hallas was led by the actuary and the 
apothecary ; the leadership of the opposing 
faction was ably represented by the quondam 
apothecary’s clerk, and the new physician, whom 
the flutist had, with the cunning of a fox, 
established in comfortable lodgings in the 
Grunanger domicile, where the second drug 
emporium was rapidly approaching completion. 

However much the contending factions dif- 
fered on other points, they were unaminous in 
agreeing that Countess Halla had never, from 
her childhood, conducted herself like other 
people; but her adherents steadfastly maintained 
that it was the privilege of every citizen to be as 
eccentric as he or she pleased, provided said 
eccentricity was obnoxious to no one else. But 
unfortunately for the unhappy countess, the 
future metropolis — as the Hohneckers were 
wont to speak of their town — had not long to 


The Little Countess. 


2 go 

wait for an opportunity to establish “ beyond 
further doubt/’ the madness of the castle’s fair 
chatelaine. 

Pretty Liesi Marten had chosen for her hus- 
band the oldest, as well as most unattractive of 
all her suitors, because he happened to be the 
wealthiest. This worthy, who had risen by his 
own exertions from the menial position of 
hostler in a suburban tavern, to the exalted sta- 
tion of poudrette manufacturer, had not until 
late in life, conceived the idea of adorning his 
miserly existence with a pretty young wife. 
Naturally Liesi, who had known how to take 
advantage of her spouse’s honeymoon mood to 
secure an ample supply of pin-money, was anx- 
ious to dazzle the eyes of her former neighbors 
with her present magnificence. She remembered 
with a blush of shame her former occupation as 
watchman’s substitute ; and surveyed with grat- 
ified ambition the silken train she proposed to 
sweep through the streets along which she had 


The Souls of the Hallas, 


291 


once trudged with the watchman’s horn and 
lantern. 

After considerable ursfing — for he had no desire 
to visit places which could in no wise benefit his 
business — Liesi persuaded her husband to 
accompany her to her native village. All 
Hohneck crowded to the windows to behold the 
watchman’s granddaughter, in her cinnamon 
hued silk gown, and long white plumes, clinging, 
with quite the air of a grand city ladjq to the 
arm of her clumsy husband. 

One of the best rooms at the hotel was 
engaged ; and after a hearty dinner, the pair 
started out on a round of visits to the bride’s old 
acquaintances. Although Liesi had frequently 
boasted of her friends, the dignitaries of 
Hohneck,” now that she was again among them, 
she seemed strangely reluctant to see them face 
to face. However, her usual effrontery before 
long came to her aid, and she led the way, with 
the front of a conquering hero, to the actuary’s 
residence, where she announced that she desired 


292 


The Little Coimtess. 


to '' buy some of the famous Hohneck lace, which 
was so admired by the aristocracy of the 
Residenz.’' 

This flattery had the desired effect. The 
worthy pair were invited to tea, during which 
meal the mother of the family confidentially 
informed the poudrette manufacturer that '' these 
Martens were really something quite out of the 
ordinary that if Liesi had not been the sensible 
child she was, her pretty head would have been 
turned long ago by Count Halla's flatteries. As 
for Lorenz Marten — well, yes — there had been 
some queer stories about him and Countess 
Halla ; but — ” Here Frau Schindler leaned toward 
the poudrette manufacturer and whispered 
something that was received with a coarse 
laugh. 

Ha ! ha ! ha ! a sharp chap !” he exclaimed, 
‘‘a devilish sharp chap — that Lorenz!’’ 

Before taking leave of her dear friends, Liesi 
bought a beautiful piece of lace that had been 
left at the depository ” by Minna Grunanger. 


The Souls of the Hallas. 


293 


It had been found among Doctor Grunanger’s 
effects ; and as Minna had no use for such 
furbelows, she had commissioned the ‘‘ W Oman's 
Industrial League " to dispose of it. 

By no means content with her success in the 
village, Liesi determined to parade her magnifi- 
cence at the castle. She had heard from Frau 
Inger that Countess Halla lived alone, in 
extreme poverty ; and the desire to humble the 
haughty Candide was but natural to a nature 
like Liesi's. However eager she was to confront 
the countess, it would be a misstatement of facts 
to say that the poudrette manufacturer's wife 
ascended the hill without experiencing some 
trepidation ; and when she arrived at the ruins, 
she felt almost ashamed of her own prosperity, 
and would have retraced her steps had she not 
dreaded her husband's ridicule. That important 
personage, whom the laborious ascent had 
rendered exceedingly ill-humored, swore lustily 
at his wife's ‘‘idiotic fancy" to climb up to “this 
miserable nest, with its aristocratic paupers." 


294 


The Little Countess. 


The pair came rather unexpectedly upon 
Candide, who was sitting on a block of stone 
beside the gap in the wall which had been made 
by the orders of Doctor Grunanger. The chute 
for the transportation of the stone to the foot of 
the hill had been partly completed ; and the 
opening in the wall afforded a beautiful view of 
the village, the winding river, along whose banks 
ran the new railway, the wooded hills in the 
distance, and the verdant meadows in the valley. 

Liesi timidly approached the motionless 
countess, who had not noticed the intruders, and 
in a faltering tongue spoke to her. 

Ah ! Liesi, is that you?” in a surprised tone, 
exclaimed Candide, turning toward her. This 
is an unexpected pleasure.” 

This is my — my husband ;” stammered Liesi, 
awkwardly introducing the manufacturer, who 
seemed, for once, unable to find his tongue. 

For an instant Candide gazed abstractedly at 
the husband and wife, then, as if trying to collect 
her thoughts, said ; 


The So7ils of the Hatlas, 


295 


1 trust the war has not injured you, Liesi — 1 
mean your husband — 1 — ’’ 

'‘Injured me, Madam Countess?” pompously 
interrupted the manufacturer, suddenly finding 
his speech. " Not in the least — not in the least ! 
Some aristocrats I could name would be glad 
to have escaped so easily, while some who 
imagine themselves so much better than I, are 
suffering hunger. I can slap a full pocket ” — 
smiting his breeches pocket, and leering 
triumphantly at the amazed countess. "Yes, 
yes;” he paused. "You look very melancholy 
up here among your stone-heaps, Madam 
Countess. Come, now, confess; you wouldn’t 
object to being the sister-in-law of a rich manu- 
facturer, now would you ? Ha ! ha ! ha ! what 
a clever young rascal that Lorenz must be — eh ?” 

" What does he say about Lorenz ?” asked the 
perplexed countess of Liesi, who was vainly tug- 
ging at her husband’s sleeve. 

" Oh — nothing — nothing, countess — he is only 
jesting ;” stammered Liesi. 


296 


The Little Countess. 


Jesting am I ?” echoed the manufacturer with 
a rude laugh. “Not much! — I said that you, 
Madam Countess, might be glad if our Lorenz — 
your former sweetheart, you know — had made 
you my sister-in-law instead of giving you the 
slip — you understand? If )^ou were related to 
me I might help you mend up this old barracks. 
But I dare say miisje Lorenz knew what he was 
doing when he deserted the beggar countess 
for the rich widow. But you’re not the first 
girl, Madam Countess, whose lover has run away 
from her — ” 

He rested his huge red fists on his sides, and 
surveyed Candide with a smile that was intended 
to be roguishly significant. It broadened his 
lips only for an instant, however — two swift, 
stinging blows on his fat cheek made the sparks 
fly from his eyes. His bellow of rage was 
supplemented by a shrill cry from Liesi, who 
flung herself in his arms to prevent a return 
blow for those he had received from the insulted 
countess. 


The Souls of the H alias. 


297 


The united cries of husband and wife sent the 
alarmed pigeons flattering about in all direc- 
tions ; while Ralf, who had been startled from a 
comfortable doze in a sunny corner, darted 
excitedly up the pile of stones to the battlements 
of the tower. 

'‘Just wait!” shrieked the infuriated manu- 
facturer, roughly flinging aside his clinging bride, 
" ril twist that long neck of yours, you red- 
headed witch — you — ” 

But amazement rendered him suddenly 
speechless. He stood there, his mouth half 
open, his hand uplifted, staring after the 
countess, who had turned, at his first movement 
toward her, and swiftly ascended the stone- 
heap after Ralf. With a step as light and 
secure as that of her feline pet, the nimble-footed 
countess climbed to the dizzy height, then 
walked along the battlements to the open win- 
dow in the tower, through which she disap- 
peared. 

Not for all he was worth would, or could, the 


298 


The Little Countess, 


enraged manufacturer have followed his adver- 
sary — indeed, the strength *of her arm, and the 
intrepidity of her retreat, inspired the bully with 
a respect that her station, and refinement, would 
never have won from his coarse nature. 

Humiliated and angry, the defeated pair 
returned to the village. Liesi, whose resplen- 
dent toilet had suffered considerable damage in 
the scuffle with her husband, would have pre- 
ferred to keep the affair secret ; but that was out 
of the question. Her wrathful spouse not only 
brought suit for unprovoked assault against 
the mistress of the castle, but repeated to 
every one that would listen, the story of the 
*• outrageous insult '' which had been offered to a 
peaceable citizen.” 

The summons to appear before the village 
magistrate was unnoticed by the countess. She 
did not make her appearance ; nor did she send 
a representative. A second summons proving 
equally futile, the customary fine was imposed 
on the recalcitrant countess ; and no notice 


The Souls of the Hallas. 299 

being vouchsafed this last action, two important 
personages, the constable and his deputy, one 
fine day toiled up the hill to take into custody 
the '‘dangerous lunatic. Countess von Halla!” 

While ascending the steep path, these two 
worthies discussed the propriety of using fire- 
arms in case the mad countess should, as was her 
wont, glide like a lizard up the walls, and take 
refuge in an unaccessible — to ordinary humans! 
— crevice. They arrived at the castle gates 
before the question was decided ; and found the 
stout old doors so securely locked and barred 
that it was impossible for anything larger than 
a rat to gain entrance. They might have sum- 
moned a posse couretatus ; but without ropes and 
ladders, an army of brave citizens could accom- 
plish nothing. At last a brilliant idea occurred 
to the constable. He remembered that a gap 
had been made in the south wall for a chute ; he 
would enter there — provided it was not guarded 
by an armed sentry, or rather (but this he sup- 
plemented mentally) by a courageous woman, 


300 


The Little Countess, 


of whom he was more afraid than of a dozen 
soldiers. Bidding his deputy keep a sharp 
watch on the gates, he started on his rather 
perilous journey around the base of the wall, 
and was soon lost to view. 

Left to his own resources, the deputy, who was 
a new-comer in Hohneck, leisurely surveyed the 
ancient walls which he saw now for the first 
time, and tried to picture to himself the danger- 
ous inmate of so formidable a pile. He was 
roused from his speculations by the sound of a 
heavy, halting footstep, which was ascending the 
wagon road, and was amazed to see coming 
toward him a handsome young man instead of 
the aged cripple he expected. The new-comer, 
who dragged himself along on a crutch, wore a 
faded military coat, on the breast of which was 
suspended an iron cross. 

What does this mean ?” demanded the sol- 
dier, leaning on his crutch, and surveying the 
deputy. ''What are you doing here? and why 
are the gates closed T 


The Souls of the H alias. 


301 


The mad countess has locked herself in, Herr 
Lieutenant, and will not allow us to arrest her. 
I expect she will shoot one, or both of us before 
all is over — she is very dangerous.'' 

The officer sighed wearily, and sat down on a 
rock beside the gateway. 

Now tell me what it is all about ?'’ he said. 

The deputy related as much as he knew of the 
affair ; while his hearer sat there, motionless, 
with his head resting on his hand. 

‘‘Call back your comrade," in an imperious 
tone commanded the officer when the deputy 
had concluded. “You may return to the village 
and tell the magistrate I shall see him to-mor- 
row." 

“ How am I to know that you have any 
authority to — " began the deputy, but his speech 
was curtly abbreviated by the officer, who rose, 
and with a haughty gesture said : 

“ I am Count Halla, on whose domain you are 
trespassing — now go." He stepped back 
several paces from the wall, turned his face 


302 


TJie Little Countess, 


towaid the tower, and placing his open palms 
on either side of his mouth, called in a loud, 
clear voice: Halla!’' 

Halla ! Halla ! Halla !” the call reverber- 
ated among the ruins a dozen times. 

‘‘ Halla ! Halla ! Halla i” was repeated as if 
by a dozen living voices inside the walls. 

A sudden chill seized tne deputy, who still 
lingered. Who would have guessed tnat the 
old barracks was so strongly garisoned ! 

Wilbrand waited until the last echo died away, 
then he removed his cap and ran his fingers 
through his close cropped hair. 

''The Hallas yet live,” he muttered. "They 
will live until the old tower with its famous 
echo crumbles to dust.” 

At this moment the grating sound of a rusty 
bolt being drawn on the inside of the gates was 
heard ; and when they swung slowly apart, the 
slender form and pale face of the " mad coun- 
tess ” appeared in the opening. 

" Welcome home, cousin,” she said in a calm 


The Soitls of the H alias , 


303 


voice, as if she had parted from him but yester 
day; “ I have guarded, as well as I knew how 
what remains of our inheritance.” 

'‘Candide!” cried Wilbrand, tremblingly hold- 
ing toward her his crutch. Look at me, Can- 
dide !” 

She turned her absent gaze upon him, and 
seemed for the first time to realize what had 
happened. Life, memory, suddenly returned to 
her ; she uttered an inarticulate cry and sprang 
to his side. In a trice the crutch was snatched 
from his hand, and her own strong )^oung arm 
was supporting him tenderly, carefully, as if he 
were a feeble child. Before speaking she took 
from her neck a black ribbon on which hung a 
diamond ring. 

“ Here !” she called to the deputy, who had 
started down the hill ; '' take this ring, pay what 
is demanded of me, and keep the remainder for 
your trouble.” 

Then, with gentle caution, she guided the 


304 


The Little Countess. 


crippled hero’s steps through the court to the 
castle. 

Dear heart,” he said, with tender reproach 
in his tone — illness, misfortune and loneliness 
had at last softened him — dear heart, why did 
you let it come to this?” 

“ Because I was in the right,” she answered, 
with a touch of the old spirit. ‘‘ I struck the 
miscreant who insulted me, because 1 had no one 
then to defend me.” 

“ And now — you have ?” with a loving smile 
added Wilbrand. 

^‘And now 1 have,” she repeated, with an 
answering smile; ‘‘now that Count Halla is 
come back the mad countess will not have to 
suffer any more insults.” 

“No, my love; even if her unworthy husband 
is a poor cripple, he will know how to defend 
her. But oh ! Candide, my dearest, I come back 
to you with empty hands.” 

“See!” cried the countess, pointing towaj*d 
the gap in the wall, “ had the war begun six 


The Souls of the H alias. 


305 


months later, the wise management of our best 
friend would have made you an independent 
man. But nothing was completed ; and although 
I was familiar with all the doctor’s plans, I 
hadn’t the means to carry them out.” 

''Didn’t he leave you anything? or — weren’t 
you his wife ?” with evident reluctance asked 
Wilbrand. 

" No ; he knew that my whole heart belonged 
to you — I was his daughter,” in a low tone 
responded Candide. 

" A daughter whom he disinherited with a 
tinge of bitterness added Wilbrand. 

"You are mistaken,” quickly rejoined his 
cousin, a slight flush, rising to her cheeks, 
" he bequeathed everything he owned to me, but 
1 burned the will by the side of his dead body.” 

" A costly sacrificial fire, my dear Didi.” 

" Maybe — and yet, if I held that will here in 
my hands, I should do the same over again.” 

"You talk like a sphinx — or a mad woman, 
Candide.” 


3o6 


The Little Countess, 


Perhaps I am mad,” she replied sadly. '' The 
people down yonder say I am. It may be mad- 
ness to prefer starvation to the plenty which 
would be my reward for the boundless reverence 
I gave him; but I could not endure to have the 
slanderous tongues down yonder say : ‘ She wasn’t 
his wife, but she must have given him a great 
deal to accept so much from him ! ’ That is what 
they would have said. You, perhaps, would think 
differently. Ah, W ilbrand,” she cried, with a sud- 
den burst of passionate tears, '' have patience 
with me. Now that you are helpless, no servant 
will wait on you more faithfully than I — no 
labor will be too heavy for me — only have 
patience !” 

Wilbrand looked down at the pleading face — 
it was shockingly thin and pale — in silence for a 
moment ; then he took her hands, drew her close 
to his breast, and kissed her hair. 

At last!” he murmured in a choking voice 
pressing her close to his heart. At last the 
conflict is ended ! Now, at this late day, after 


The Souls of the Hallas, 


307 


our best hopes are buried, we stand here, united, 
cast off by all the world, but with the blessed 
consciousness that we are able to give up every- 
thing — renounce everything but our boundless, 
our deathless love ! I wept bitter tears, Candide, 
when I found that I was not to die on the battle- 
field ; that I was not to be permitted to escape a 
wretched, maimed existence. I did not write to 
tell you that I lived, because I cursed my life. 
But now — now that I see you again — now that I 
know you are mine, now I rejoice that I was 
spared to live with you, to die with you — hand 
in hand, heart to heart, lips to lips, to-day, — 
to-morrow — no matter when death calls — so we 
go together !” 

Candide lifted her wet eyes to his glowing 
face. 

'' An invalid may despond,” she said, smiling 
through her tears. “ When )"Ou are again well, 
you will think differently. My own trials have 
been very hard to bear, but no one ever heard 
me complain. What matter if we are ship- 


3o8 


The Little Countess. 


wrecked to-day? To-morrow we shall be 
together — the terrible loneliness is gone for- 
ever — '' 

'' And you forgive me,” interposed Wilbrand, 
closing her lips with a kiss. ‘'You forgive me, 
and it would be sinful to complain now that you 
are mine. The castle shall not be sold, but we 
two will live here with Anatole and Doris ; and ” 
— with a smile that had something of his old 
archness — “ if we have nothing else, we yet have 
a mausoleum !” 

“Yes, we will stay here; it is better so,” 
thoughtfully assented Candide. “ We will stay, 
and who knows ! perhaps it is not yet too late 
to conciliate the discontented souls.” 

“ The discontented souls?” repeated Wilbrand 
uneasily, scrutinizing her face. “ What do you 
mean, my love?” 

Without replying, Candide released herself 
from his clasping arm, and fetched from the 
secret drawer, which had once concealed the 
family jewels, a roll of parchment. 


The Souls of the Hallas. 


309 


'' I found this among the archives,” she 
explained, unfolding the musty document ; ‘'and 
think it contains the explanation of our family's 
misfortunes. Don’t tr}^ to decipher the peculiar 
characters ; they will only puzzle your brain. 
During the long evenings of the past three 
months, I made a readable copy that will tell 
you why the souls of the departed Hallas have 
not been able to rest in peace ; and why we, the 
last of the race, are so unfortunate. Here is the 
copy,” she concluded, handing him a paper. 

Wilbrand took it, glanced curiously down the 
page, then read : 

“ I, Hans Wilbrand von Halla, Knight, 
together with my spouse, Anna Sybella — house 
of Amster — have so willed, and have decreed, 
and solemnly vowed by the Holy Sacrament, to 
found a perpetual mass for the souls of the 
Hallas, said mass to begin on the Day of the 
Epiphany, in the year of our Lord 1625, and to 
continue so long as the name of Halla shall exist 


310 


The Little Co?mtess. 


in the world. This mass is to be celebrated in 
the venerable Cathedral at O — , from the altar 
which my spouse’s bounty has so richly embel- 
lished, on the third day of every month, which 
is twelve times yearly — according to the num- 
ber of the Holy Apostles. And I, Hans Wil- 
brand von Halla, do hereby, in my own name, 
and in that of my spouse, Anna Sybella, and in 
the names of all that shall descend from me, 
pledge to the above-mentioned Cathedral for the 
maintenance of said perpetual mass, my free- 
hold of Lenchtenburg, together with the lands, 
fields, woods, and streams, game and fish apper- 
taining thereto, and all the revenues accruing 
therefrom — so help me God ! Amen ! And my 
descendants shall, for all time, and as they value 
the peace and rest of their own souls, hold 
themselves bound not to oppose, nor in any way 
obstruct this, my will and vow ; but to watch 
without ceasing that the souls receive what is 
their due.” 


The Souls of the Hallas 3 1 1 

The paper dropped from Wilbrand*s trembling 
hands. 

‘‘ Gandide,” he gasped in an agitated whisper, 
do you know — have you inquired if this mass 
is still celebrated T 

It has not been celebrated for more than 
eight}" years, not since — ” 

'' Help me to kneel, Dide !” excitedly inter- 
rupted Wilbrand, so — now, Didi ; recite forme 
the Te Deum Lauda 7 nusr 

^‘Wilbrand!” exclaimed Candide in amaze- 
ment, '' you wish to pray ?’' 

Yes, my dearest, and may we never cease to 
thank God that He chose the souls of our ances- 
tors as the treasures of our future ! Never let 
me close my eyes, never let me rise from sleep, 
without praising God with the souls of the 
Hallas!” 



CHAPTER XIV. 

THE END. 

Ralf was growing old. He was less active 
than formerly ; and the numerous alterations in 
his old home had made him morose and irrita- 
ble. When he took an airing along the trim 
graveled walks between the tasteful flower beds 
in the garden ; or sunned himself on the grassy 
terrace where, two years before, had been com- 
pleted the chute, down which were transported 
the huge blocks of granite to build the imposing 
railway station, all the delights of his younger 
years seemed to have vanished with the disap- 
pearance of the crumbling walls. The masons 
and carpenters who had made so wonderful a 



The End. 


3^3 

change among his beloved ruins, would have 
been the most detested of all Ralf’s enemies had 
there not come upon the scene, at the same time 
with the workmen, a rascally stable boy, with 
two great horses and a pony. It was not enough 
to have this same stable boy, who was the most 
malicious creature imaginable, come to torment 
the life out of quiet-loving beings, but he must 
needs bring with him a shaggy yellow terrier, 
with a bark so shrill and piercing that it made 
every separate hair on the back of a dignified 
and respectable old cat rise in resentful indig- 
nation. 

Not even Candide escaped Ralfs displeasure. 
That Wilbrand, whom he had never admired, 
should come back to live at the castle, and 
become the constant companion of his beloved 
mistress, was more than the best-natured cat 
could be expected to tolerate. 

Another very serious annoyance was that all 
sorts of disagreeable people came and went at 
will. But quite the most disagreeable— I might 


3H 


The Little Countess. 


say the most unpardonable intrusion of all, was 
that of a tiny creature that made its appearance 
one day, and actually took up its abode in the 
countess’ bedroom ! That it had not arrived by 
way of the castle gate, Ralf could have sworn, 
for he had spent the entire day on guard at that 
very spot ! 

Had some one told Ralf that the alarming 
monster in Candide’s bed was only a diminutive 
Count Halla, he would not, even then, have been 
able to understand why this degenerate scion of 
a noble race gave its parents so much happiness, 
or why Wilbrand was so delighted when he 
laid in the little Hans Wilbrand’s cradle a paper 
that did not bear the slightest resemblance to a 
carminative. It was a letter from the family 
lawyer, who had won the famous suit of the 
Halla heirs against the wealthy cathedral at 

O , said cathedral having omitted, for a 

period of eighty years, to celebrate the per- 
petual mass for the souls of the Hallas, which 


The End, 


315 


had been founded and provided for by a remote 
ancestor. 

“ The souls acknowledge our little Hans 
Wilbrand,” exclaimed Candide, with tears of joy 
shining in her eyes. They acknowledge, and 
bestow on him a fortune that will restore our 
castle to its former magnificence.'’ 

******* 

Yes, again the genial sun of prosperity and 
contentment shines on Hohneck Castle, and no 
corner on the romantic hill-top is too sterile, no 
soil too unresponsive to the life-giving warmth 
for the verdant blade which flourishes every- 
where in peace and joy. 

The famous Halla lawsuit aroused widespread 
interest among all classes ; and when Count 
Wilbrand at last won the victory, the friends 
who had forgotten him in his dark hours, came 
with congratulations and good wishes from all 
quarters ; while all Hohneck — not excepting 
even the families of the actuary and the apothe- 


3i6 


The Little Countess, 


cary — united in praising the lovely Countess 
Halla’s noble qualities. 

Only Ralf was dissatisfied. It enraged him to 
see everybody in such high good humor, when he 
was so unhappy. He stole noiselessly down the 
steps into the court-yard — the detested stable- 
boy and his terrier were nowhere to be seen 
— to seek a sunny resting place. Rest? There 
was no more rest for him in this world ! There, 
coming through the gate, was another intruder ! 

But there was something familiar about this 
intruder — Ralf half believed he had seen him 
before. Yes, sure enough! The next instant 
the sagacious creature’s spine was curved in the 
old manner of welcome, his tail was pointing to 
the zenith, and he was rubbing his sleek sides 
affectionately against the ankles of the visitor. 

‘'What? old Ralf! you still alive, and recog- 
nize an old friend ?” exclaimed a deep, musical 
voice. 

Ralf made no reply; but he blinked his 


The End, 


317 


green eyes in a significant manner, that said 
plainly enough: 

“ If I am old, and only a cat, I can recognize 
an old friend when I see him !” 

A halting footstep came down the graveled 
walk, and the tall form of the castle’s lord, sup- 
ported by a crutch, appeared upon the scene. 

Count Halla !” exclaimed the stranger, hold- 
ing out his hand. 

The count took the extended hand, and 
surveyed the owner of it with a perplexed, 
questioning glance. 

I regret to say that I have forgotten where 
we met before, reverent Father,” he said with 
an apologetic smile. “Was it on the battle- 
field ?” 

“ No,” with an answering smile returned the 
young priest. “ Lorenz Marten, the opera-singer, 
who went to America, where he studied for the 
priesthood, and entered the Church, which he is 
now trying humbly to serve.” 

“ Ah, to be sure ! Lorenz Marten,” cried the 


3«8 


The Little Countess, 


count, cordially shaking the hand he still held. 

This is indeed a pleasant surprise — but, where 
is Frau Inger?’' 

The wearer of a robe like this,” returned 
Lorenz, laying his hand on the skirt of his cleri- 
cal coat, has no romantic history to relate. Miss 
Kopp helped me to banish from my brain all 
illusions concerning fine ladies, the favor of the 
great world, and the grand role I was to per- 
sonate in it. One after another the fascinating 
delusions were wrenched from my simple heart, 
by that modern goddess of common sense. Miss 
Mary Kopp. For a long time she tried her best 
to make me as selfish and as mercenary as her- 
self — and who can tell what might have hap- 
pened, had I never known any but frivolous 
women and avaricious men ? But always, wher- 
ever I went, there dwelt in my memory the 
image of my generous and unselfish benefactress, 
Candide von Halla ; I always remembered her 
and my honest old grandfather ; and the manly 
virtues of that prince among men, Doctor 


The End. 


319 

Grunanger. When Frau Inger wrote me that 
an interesting French officer with whom she 
became - acquainted in the hospital, loved her 
better than I did, and wished to make her his 
wife, I was glad of the chance to escape from a 
bond that had become distasteful to me. But, 
enough of myself ; tell me rather about the little 
countess — is she happy ?” 

“ Come and see for yourself,’' replied the 
count, laying his hand on the young priest’s 
arm. 

They walked arm in arm toward the stately 
castle, leaving Ralf alone — the poor old Ralf, 
who alone was discontented and unhappy ! 


THE END. 


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